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<h1>In the Caboose.</h1>

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"Train delayed? and what's to say?" 
"Blocked by last night's snow they say." 
Seven hours or so to wait; 
Well, that's pleasant! but there's the freight. 
Depot loafing no one fancies, 
We'll try the caboose and take our chances. 
  
Cool this morning in Watertown, 
Somewhat frosty___mercury down; 
Enter caboose___roaring fire, 
With never an air-hole; heat so dire 
That we shrivel and pant; we are roasted through- 
Outside, thermometer thirty-two. 
  
We start with a jerk and suddenly stop. 
"What's broke?" says one; another "What's up?", 
"Oh, nothing," they answer, "That's our way: 
You must stand the jerking, sorry to say." 
We "stand it" with oft this painful thought: 
Are our heads on yet, or are they not? 
  
Comrades in misery___let me see; 
Girl like a statue opposite me; 
Back and forth the others jostle___ 
She never winks, nor moves a muscle; 
See her, as she sits there now; 
She's "well balanced," anyhow. 
  
Woman in trouble, tearful eyes, 
Sits by the window, softly cries, 
Pity___for griefs we may not know, 
For breasts that ache, for tears that flow, 
Though we know not why. Her eyelids red 
Tell a sorrowful tale___some hope is dead. 
  
Man who follows the Golden Rule, 
And lends his papers___a pocket full, 
Has a blank book___once in a minute 
Has an idea, and writes it in it. 
Guess him? Yes, of course I can, 
He's a___well___a newspaper man. 
  
Blue-eyed fairy, wrapped in fur; 
Sweet young mother tending her. 
Fairy thinks it's "awful far," 
Wants to get off this "naughty car." 
So do we, young golden-hair; 
All this crowd are with you there!
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<p><a href="http://skyways.lib.ks.us/poetry/walls/caboose.html">-- Ellen P. Allerton.</a></p>