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I was never brought back to the kitchen, instead.
I hung on a nail in the old wash shed
This almost broke, my cofTec pot heart
Then a wren flew by and gave me a start
I guess I sort of caught her eye
To save me, I really can?t see why
Then off she flew and in no time I?d say
She started to pack me with long strands of hay
I was glad, because you see, the little wren kept me company
But not for long, you can take my word
For one bright morning, this mother bird
Took her children, to the near by tree
And left me alone, in my misery
One morning my inadam. came out to the shed
She looked around, and smiling she said
That old cofTee pot means a lot to me
I think I?ll clean it up and see
If there?s not a place in the house somewhere
As an old memento it can share
So she scoured and scrubbed as hard as she could
I wonder sometime just how I stood
Such treatment, but gee I felt good
Because between camping, neglect and the wren
I?d be back in circulation again
So now when my madam?s friends come by
and look around. I catch their eye
Where did you get that coffee pot?
She smiles and says ?Well once upon a time this coffee pot and those boys of mine used to go camping and so you see it plays a part in my family?s history.?
Now I hope as long as I am able To have a place on the dining room table now that you have heard my life?s story Can you blame me for basking in pride and glory.
HYMNS
These hymns are dedicated to the little St. Joseph?s Chapel. Dunbar Avenue, where I have been playing the organ since 1910.
Children who sang in the choir through the years, have gone on, and their children have sung, and are now singing, in the same choir.
The Organ and I are still carrying on.
Many of the priests who have said Holy Mass through these years, have become pastors of other parishes, and some have passed away.
But the organ and I still go on.
BAY ST. LOUIS
AUG 7, 1953