This poem was written about 100 years ago. Poor young maid! I would probably endanger a loved one's life by knitting too. By Our Office Boy
A youngish maid with beautiful map-- She knit her beau a beanie cap. She waited till she found a chance, Then sent it to her beau in France. He put it on, out in the rain, And soon his head began to pain. It pained some more, alas, alack, And then his head began to crack. They found him there and thought him dead-- The beanie cap still on his head. With chisels then they pried it loose; The yarn she used, it had been punk; The beanie cap, how it had shrunk. The doctor says to tell his gal That he can leave the hospit-al Some time next fall, and well, perhaps, But he must shun all beanie caps. O maid, if you must do your bit, Go drive a truck, but please don't knit.
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