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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508873" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Three Bares</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean<br>And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzine.<br>It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do<br>With all that bucket load of high explosive residue.<br>She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it around,<br>For Grandpa liked to throw his lighted matches on the ground.<br>Somehow she didn't dare to pour it down the kitchen sink, <br>And what the heck to do with it, poor Ma jest couldn't think.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Nature seemed to give the clue, as down the garden lot<br>She spied the edifice that graced a solitary spot, <br>Their Palace of Necessity, the family joy and pride,<br>Enshrined in morning-glory vine, with graded seats inside;<br>Jest like that cabin Goldylocks found occupied by three,<br>But in this case B-E-A-R was spelt B-A-R-E----<br>A tiny seat for Baby Bare, a medium for Ma,<br>A full-sized section sacred to the Bare of Grandpapa.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, Ma was mighty glad to get that worry off her mind,<br>And hefting up the bucket so combustibly inclined,<br>She hurried down the garden to that refuge so discreet,<br>And dumped the liquid menace safely through the centre seat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Next morning old Grandpa arose; he made a hearty meal,<br>And sniffed the air and said: 'By Gosh! how full of beans I feel.<br>Darned if I ain't as fresh as paint; my joy will be complete<br>With jest a quiet session on the usual morning seat;<br>To smoke me pipe an' meditate, an' maybe write a pome,<br>For that's the time when bits o' rhyme gits jiggin' in me dome.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He sat down on that special seat slicked shiny by his age,<br>And looking like Walt Whitman, jest a silver-whiskered sage,<br>He filled his corn-cob to the brim and tapped it snugly down,<br>And chuckled: 'Of a perfect day I reckon this the crown.'<br>He lit the weed, it soothed his need, it was so soft and sweet:<br>And then he dropped the lighted match clean through the middle seat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His little grand-child Rosyleen cried from the kichen door:<br>'Oh, Ma, come quick; there's sompin wrong; I heared a dreffel roar;<br>Oh, Ma, I see a sheet of flame; it's rising high and higher...<br>Oh, Mummy dear, I sadly fear our comfort-cot's caught fire.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor Ma was thrilled with horror at them words o' Rosyleen.<br>She thought of Grandpa's matches and that bucket of benzine;<br>So down the garden geared on high, she ran with all her power,<br>For regular was Grandpa, and she knew it was his hour.<br>Then graspin' gaspin' Rosyleen she peered into the fire,<br>A roarin' soarin' furnace now, perchance old Grandpa's pyre....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as them twain expressed their pain they heard a hearty cheer----<br>Behold the old rapscallion squattinn' in the duck pond near,<br>His silver whiskers singed away, a gosh-almighty wreck,<br>Wi' half a yard o' toilet seat entwined about his neck....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He cried: 'Say, folks, oh, did ye hear the big blow-out I made?<br>It scared me stiff - I hope you-uns was not too much afraid?<br>But now I best be crawlin' out o' this dog-gasted wet....<br>For what I aim to figger out is----WHAT THE HECK I ET?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508873" data-title="The Three Bares de Robert William Service" data-description="Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean
And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzine.
It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do
With all that bucket load of high explosive residue.
She kne..."></div>
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