The
seedless apple, so they say,
Will soon be here to greet us;
Which
fact will lessen, we presume,
The dread appendicitis.
But
Johnny on the orchard fence,
Where oft he goes to frolic,
Will
still be twisted out of shape
With early summer colic.
Till
scientists go further yet,
(We have some very keen ones)
And
grow some apples fully ripe,
Without there being green ones.
May
7, 1904
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