Explore "It was a Famous Victory" by Franklin P. Adams on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a summer evening; / Old Kaspar was at home, / Sitting before his cottage door -- / Like in the Southey pome -- / And near him, with a magazine, / Idled his grandchild, Geraldine.
"Why don't you ask me," Kaspar said / To the child upon the floor, / "Why don't you ask me what I did / When I was in the war?
They told me that each little kid / Would surely ask me what I did.
"I've had my story ready / For thirty years or more."
"Don't bother, Grandpa," said the child; / "I find such things a bore.
Pray leave me to my magazine,"
Asserted little Geraldine.
Then entered little Peterkin, / To whom his gaffer said: / "You'd like to hear about the war?
How I was left for dead?"
"No. And, besides," declared the youth, / "How do I know you speak the truth?"
Arose that wan, embittered man, / The hero of this pome, / And walked, with not unsprightly step, / Down to the Soldiers' Home, / Where he, with seven other men, / Sat swapping lies till half-past ten.