nd likes it.
In our early years at Dublin, the Smiths' outdoor theatre was dedicated and Colonel Higginson read these lines.
They are given as a specimen of his gift at impromptu verse, which was often in demand on such occasions.
Later he himself took part in a miracle play, Theophile, written by our neighbor, Henry Copley Greene, for the Teatro Bambino, in which Higginson personated an aged abbot.
When the Goddess of Dulness would rule o'er this planet And bind all amusements, like Samson, with withes, Fate conquered her scheme, ere she fairly began it, By producing one household—a household of Smiths.
Fate selected the seed of a Rhode Island Quaker Its wit and its wisdom, its mirth and its pith, And brought all these gifts to a Point—one half acre— And gave to the product the surname of Smith.
Though Care killed a cat it cannot hush the Mewses Nor reduce all our joys to monotonous myth; Some gleams of pure fun o'er the earth Fate diffuses,— So cheers, three times three,