Classic Poem

“You can decorate your office
With a thousand gilded signs,
And have upholstered furniture
In quaint antique designs;
Have the latest patent telephone
Where you can yell ‘Hello!’
But,” said she, “I just made up my mind
That typewriter must go.

“You can stay down at the office,
As you have done, after hours;
And, if you are partial to bouquets,
I'll furnish you with flowers.
You can spring the old club story
When you come home late, you know,
But, remember, I've made up my mind
That typewriter must go.

“You can let your bookkeepers lay off
And see a game of ball;
The office-boy can leave at noon
Or not show up at all.
There—what is this upon your coat?
It is n't mine I know.
I think I know a thing or two—
That typewriter shall go.”