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Summer Fiction

From the Omaha Daily Bee, July 28, 1913. By Arthur Chapman.

Ere Jones went on his prized vacation
    He said, “I’ll need some books to read;
’Twill add unto my recreation
    If I can scan a fiction screed.”
So to the phone soon Jones was turning,
    And to the book store sent a call;
“For fiction,” quoth Jones, “I am yearning,
    So send the new books—send them all.”

And so, next morn, ere Jones was leaving,
    Two moving vans stopped at his door;
The driver asked, “Shall we be heaving
    These books upon the lawn or floor?
There’s seven more loads on the way, sir—
    Three motorcycle loads beside;
The fiction crop this year they say, sir,
    Is heavy—that can’t be denied.”

And Jones rushed out and saw them carting
    Love tales and “crook” yarns by the ton;
“Oh, what,” he cried with optics starting,
    “Is this mad thing that I have done?”
And straightaway in a heap he tumbled—
    The ambulance took him away—
But still the fiction order rumbled
    Up to the Jones front door all day.

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