November

Who's that pedler at the door? What! November, back once more? Why, it seems but yesterday That he took himself away! Say I'm out! Tell him to go! He has nothing new to show. Same old lay-out every trip, Same Pneumonia, same old Grippe, Same old Hard Luck tales to tell, Same Thanksgiving Day--oh, well, Show him in--then stir the log And bring church-warden pipes and grog.