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A Fantasy of Fresh Eggs

From the New York Tribune, February 18, 1913.
 By W. J. Lampton.
 

 ’Twas on a January day
     When fair Toinette O’Keggs
 Fared forth to market for to buy
     A dozen new laid eggs.
 “I want them strictly fresh,” she said,
     “No other kind for me.”
 “Well, these are just out,” quoth the man,
     “You have our guarantee.”
 So guileless Toinette took the eggs
     Believing what he said,
 And when she opened up the box
     On one of them she read:
 “Whoever gets this egg please write
     To John Smith, Waterloo,
 N. J., and you can bet your life
     That he will write to you.”
 

 Now Toinette’s heart was all agog
     Her soul was filled with bliss
 For she had dreamed and dreamed and dreamed
     Of romance such as this.
 So when the shades of evening came
     And all her work was done
 She wrote a note which truly was
     A most romantic one.
 She waited for a month or more
     Then, when all hope had fled
 An answer came from John Smith, who
     In tones of anguish said:
 “Too late, too late; I’m married now,
     And I am full of woe;
 The words you read upon that egg
     I wrote two years ago.”
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