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From The Topeka State Journal, October 15, 1914.

Gone with the mists and rains,
Slipp’d from old mem’ry’s chains,
Deep with the shadows blent
Heaped is the cash we’ve spent.
Sums that we lingered o’er,
Bills that once made us sore,
Things we were forced to buy,
Charges that made us sigh,
Gifts we could ill afford,
Cash paid for bed and board,
Cash for our petty needs,
Cash for our festive feeds,
Cash for a thousand things
Gone on the swiftest wings.

Whither it flies, or fares,
Now that it’s gone, who cares?

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