Ella Wheeler Wilcox describes a selfish, though a kind and loving
husband:


THEIR HOLIDAY.

THE WIFE:

Our house is like a garden--
The children are the flowers,
The gardener should come, methinks,
And walk among his bowers.
So lock the door of worry,
And shut your cares away,
Not time of year, but love and cheer,
Will make a holiday.

THE HUSBAND:

Impossible! You women do not know,
The toil it takes to make a business grow:
I can not join you until very late,
So hurry home, nor let the dinner wait.

THE WIFE:

The feast will be like Hamlet,
Without the Hamlet part;
The home is but a house, dear,