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It’s Papa Who Pays

For little things they sey are free
Wifey loves to send away–
And that should be O.K. with me:
A dime is all she’s gotta pay.

But it takes a BOX-TOP too,
And they have breakfast food beneath ’em:
“Puffie-Popps”, and “Crinkled-Foo”—
And fam’ly does to ME bequeath ’em.

They want the roses , glads and mums
That blossom in the ads they see,
And think not of the grief that comes
Thru munching colored hay, to ME!

Indigestion hurts me some–
But lay me down and die I can’t–
For when the bulbs and posies come ,
I’LL have the doggone things to plant!

by Ray Romine Thursday, April 22, 1943

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