A Coincidence

F. T. Cooper, in “The Harvard Lampoon”

GRANDMOTHER sits in her old armchair,

Placidly knitting the hours away;

Kindly, yet grave, with her silvered hair,

Tracing the cares of life’s yesterday.

Granddaughter cozily kneels beside,

Resting an elbow on grandma’s knee,

Pondering how she can best confide

Something momentous, ’tis plain to see.

On goes the click of the ivory bones,

Till dainty fingers obstruct the view,

And a shy voice asks in coaxing tones,

“Tell me how grandpa proposed to you.”

Down drops the knitting and truant ball,

While grandma answers, ’twixt smile and tear,

“Grandfather never proposed at all;

Somehow we knew it without, my dear.”

Granddaughter blushes a dainty pink,

Keeping her gaze fixed on grandma’s knee.

“Isn’t it funny,” she says, “to think

It is just that way with Jack and me?”