Classic Poem

" Bury me on a Sunday,"
He said; " so as to see
Poor folk there. 'Tis their one day
To spare for following me."

With forethought of that Sunday,
He wrote, while he was well,
On ten rum-bottles one day,
" Drink for my funeral."

They buried him on a Sunday,
That folk should not be balked
His wish, as 'twas their one day:
And forty couple walked.

They said: " To have it Sunday
Was always his concern;
His meaning being that one day
He'd do us a good turn.

" We must, had it been Monday,
Have got it over soon,
But now we gain, being Sunday,
A jolly afternoon."