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A VACATION PASTORAL.

(A FACT.)

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

'TWAS a night of the Christmas vacation;

I was home for the holiday cheer,

And accepted a kind invitation

To dance out the dying old year.

My opera hat, tie, and collar

From college of course I brought down;

And I knew that my coat, which was "swaller,"

Would astonish the youth of the town.

Miss Bridget, the queen of the kitchen,

Was fresh from the Emerald Isle;

'Twas fit she should see how bewitching

I looked in my elegant style.

So down the back stairs I went, for her

My swell Harvard costume to note;

But she cried when she saw me, "Begorra!

Mister George, where's the rest of yer coat?"

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