Anticipation

Anticipation

---------------------------

ALLOW me, through your influential journal,

To return my sincere and heartfelt thanks.

I feel as proud and happy as a Colonel

That had lately been promoted from the ranks.

For years in dirty lanes I had been hiding,

Where the sun or moon was never known to shine,

Now should you like to know where I’m residing,

My address is “Home Rule Terrace. number nine.”

God knows what we endured those cold Decembers

In that almost roofless cabin down the lane,

My little ones crouched round the dying embers,

And the walls all stained and varnished with down-rain.

Our landlord would nice bits of Scripture quote us,

And remind us of Job’s patience and his prayers;

Then brag he never gave poor tenants’ notice

If they paid their rent and never asked repairs.

After many years of promises and blunders—

Procrastination left us in a mess—

Our present Urban Council has done wonders,

And its efforts are all crowned with marked success.

Some time ago poor families were driven

Into death-traps, there to fade away and pine,

But now we have nice cottages to live in,

And the nicest of the lot is Number Nine.

Two years ago if I’d laugh anybody hinted

That I could change from those vile-smelling lanes

To live up here so happy and contented,

And clean rid of my acute rheumatic pains.

With everything so fresh and clean about me,

Not the slightest dread of fever or decline,

And if any one should feel inclined to doubt me

They can call at “Home Rule Terrace Number Nine.”

I can hardly realize my new position,

Although latterly I never sigh or moan,

And thirteen stone is not such bad condition

For a shadow that was only skin and bone.

Some times I take a quite observation

Of the “specials” that pass up and down the line—

The passengers gaze out with admiration

At the terrace, and all point at “Number Nine.”

Our little ones that were so weak and "donny,’

With limbs as thick as handles for steel pens;

You never now would say you saw young Johnny,

Or ever clapped eyes upon the twins,

The wholesome air and sunshine here are better

Than that Quaker Oats or Enniscrone brine,

I feel myself the Urban Council’s debtor

For the blessings I enjoy in “Number Nine.”

Our working men have been emancipated

From those hovels of contagion and despair,

For them the change can not be overrated,

They can now enjoy God’s sunshine and fresh air.

I could from sad experience write small volumes

That would even make hard-hearted people sigh,

I am trespassing too much upon your columns

So will close by saying “many thanks; goodbye.”

                              Larry Doolan,

                                                  Klondyke, 26th February, 1913.