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THE SHIRT THAT SHRUNK
[Welland Telegraph March 20, 1903]
My father bought an undershirt
Of bright and flaming red,
“All wool” I’m ready to assert.
“Fleece-dyed” the merchant said;
“Your size is thirty-eight, I think
A forty you should get,
Since all wool goods are bound to
shrink
A trifle when they’re wet.
That shirt two weeks my father were
Two washings- that was all;
From forty down to thirty-four
It shrank like leaves in fall
I wore it then a day or two,
But when ‘twas washed again
My wife said: “Now ‘twill only do
For little brother Ben.”
A fortnight Ben squeezed into it
At last he said it hurt;
We put it on your baby-the fit
Was good as any shirt.
We ne’er will wash it more while yet
We see it flickering light,
For if again that shirt is wet
“Twill vanish from our sight.
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