I SIT in the grocery store, discoursing of current events, each eve, when my labors are o'er, with other industrious gents. We talk of the scrapping in France, discuss the high prices of hay; and each gives the others a chance to say what they suffer to say. When Johnson unlimbers his jaws, we listen politely to him; when Jimpson stands up for his cause, we cheer his remarks with a vim. There's peace in that grocery store, each orator feels at his best, till Kickshaw, the champion bore, comes in to take part in the fest. This man, with his head full of wheels, too oft in our presence has sinned; he wants to make all of the spiels, to furnish the bulk of the wind. That's why we old fellows arose, last night, at the grocery store, and lifted that chump with our toes, and hoisted him clear through the door. Free speech is a blessing to men, without it no race can advance; but talkers should pause now and then, and give other fellows a chance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFAR IN THE DESERT by THOMAS PRINGLE THE PRELUDE: BOOK 1. CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-TIME by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A SOUL'S SOLILOQUY by WENONAH STEVENS ABBOTT THE VOICE OF THE SEA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GRACE BEFORE MEAT by ROBERT BURNS THE GUEST by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |