Explore "Sister Simmons" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Almost every other evening jest as reg'lar as the clock / When we're settin' down ter supper, wife and I, there comes a knock / An' a high-pitched voice, remarking', "Don't get up; it's _me_, yer know"; / An' our mercury drops from "summer" down ter "twenty-five below," / An' our cup of bliss turns sudden inter wormwood mixed with gall, / Fer we know it's Sister Simmons come ter make her "reg'lar call."
In she comes an' takes the rocker. Thinks she'll slip her bunnit off, / But she'll keep her shawl on, coz she's 'fraid of addin' ter her cough. / No, she won't set down ter supper. Tea? well, yes, a half er cup. / Her dyspepsy's been so lately, seems as if she _should_ give up; / An', 'tween rheumatiz an' as'ma, she's jest worn ter skin an' bone. / It's a good thing that she told us, -- by her looks we'd never known.