Explore "Mr. Wells" by Elizabeth Madox Roberts on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On Sunday morning, then he comes / To church, and everybody smells / The blacking and the toilet soap / And camphor balls from Mr. Wells.
He wears his whiskers in a bunch, / And wears his glasses on his head. / I mustn't call him Old Man Wells -- / No matter -- that's what Father said.
And when the little blacking smells / And camphor balls and soap begin, / I do not have to look to know / That Mr. Wells is coming in.