---

Robert W Service - The Key Of The Street
Work rating: Medium

"Miss Rosemary," I dourly said,
"Our balance verges on the red,
We must cut down our overhead.
One of the staff will have to go.
There`s Mister Jones, he`s mighty slow,
Although he does his best, I know. 

"A deer old man; I like him well,
But age, alas! will always tell.
Miss Rosemary, please ring the bell
And tell old Jones to step this way . . .
Oh dear, oh dear, it isn`t gay
To say the things I have to say. 

"Come in and sit down, Mister Jones."
He thanks me in sepulchral tones.
Poor chap! I hear his creaking bones.
"Have a cigar? And how`s your wife?
What`s that! You`re fearing for her life -
A cancer and the surgeon`s knife. . . . 

"Yes, operations are so dear,
But it`s your comfort and your cheer
To know your job`s so steady here."
These are his words; so meek and mild,
He looks just like a simple child . . .
Go! darn it! Suddenly I`m riled. 

And so I say: "That`s just too bad.
But Mister Jones. it`s very sad,
You know what losses we have had.
We must cut down in times like these,
So here`s a cheque, Oh take it please -
`Twill help to pay your doctor`s fees. 

"And just to show how I appraise
Your work - despite these doleful days
I`m giving you . . . a little raise." 

Said Rosemary: "Old Jones is crying."
Thought I: "Yes, each week I`ll be sighing,
When from my pocket I am prying
Ten bucks to keep his wife from dying."
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.