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Wit and Humor of America, The Vol 08

FATE

BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK

Once I planted some potatoes
In my garden fair and bright;
Unelated
Long I waited,
And no sprout appeared in sight.

But my "peachblows" in the cellar,
On the cold and grimy flag,
All serenely
Sprouted greenly
In an ancient paper bag.



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