blow
Upon the anvil in his sanctum,
Whence naught went out until he'd spanked 'em.
Result? With many alas and 'lack
The pies Joe made they all came back.
From folks who claimed they could not go
The latest pies of Dike & Co.
And here it was that Sammy came
To help his parents in the game.
"Can't eat 'em?" cried indignant Joe.
"Can't eat 'em? Well, I want to know!
Here, Sammy, show these people here
How most unjust their plaint, my dear.
Come, lad, and eat the luscious pies
That I have made and they despise."
Poor loyal Sammy then began
Upon those stodgy pies--the plan
Was very pleasing in his eyes,
For Sammy loved his mother's pies.
He nibbled one, he bit another,
And then began to think of mother.
He chewed and gnawed, he munched and bit,
But no--he could not swallow it;
And then, poor child, it was so tough
He had to say he'd had enough,
Though never in the world before
Was lad who had not wanted more.
And what became of Sammy's Ma?
And what became of Sammy's Pa?
Their profits gone, how could they eke
A living good from week to week?
They took the recipe for pies
That mother made and--Oh, so wise--
Let Father make them in his way
In form elliptical, they say.
And when the football season came
Won fortune great, and wondrous fame,
Beyond the wildest hope of dreams,
By selling these to football teams.
And those by whom this game is played
Called them the finest ever made.
"The Shuregood football" made of mince,
Has never quite been equaled since;
And few who kick them with their feet,
Know they're the pies Sam couldn't eat--
The only pies upon this orb
A healthy boy could not absorb.

[Illustration: "UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM."]

"Great poem that, eh?" said the Bellows, poking Tom in the ribs, and
grinning broadly.

"Splendid," said Tom. "New use for pies, that."

"It's beautifully long," said Lefty.

"But why couldn't it be published?" asked Righty. "Wasn't it long enough?"

"The editor said it wasn't true," sighed the Poker. "He had three boys of
his own, you know, and he said there never was a boy who couldn't eat a
pie even if it was made of crowbars and rubber, as long as it was pie."

"I guess he was right," observed Righty. "I knew a boy once who ate soft
coal just because somebody told him it was roc