Who was it chopped our logs of wood
To make our fires so bright and good,
And brought from Durracombe our food?
'Twas Mr. Treasure.
Who brought our luggage to the door
And then went back to fetch some more,
And showed us cows and pigs galore?
'Twas Charlie.
Who made our boots and shoes to shine,
And brought us plates wherewith to dine,
And boiled our breakfast eggs by nine?
'Twas Ethel.
Who was it gave us ferns so green
From hedges that we'd often seen,
And called the holiday a dream?
'Twas William.
Who was it down the passage ran
And shouted, 'Kiss me if you can!'
And hid her face when we began?
'Twas Connie.
Who was it left with many a sigh,
As to the farm we said good-bye,
And wanted sheets wherein to cry?
We all!
The very best of things, however, must come some time to an end; schools
were reopening, college terms recommencing, Mr.
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