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HOME OF THE SILVERSMITH Twas a dark and stormy night. Twas a cold and stony floor. You crept along midst failing light To
find the bathroom door. Where
you thought it was, Alas,
twas not. You’ve
relieved yourself In
a pickle pot. But
don’t despair, Nor
yet foreswear. The
truth is not so hard to bear. Tis
not a dream, nor yet a myth. You’re
living with a silversmith. By
James R. Grant
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