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Poem	Did you ever find out which of the boys it was Who snapped the toy pistol against my hand? There when the flags were red and white In the breeze and "Bucky" Estil Was firing the cannon brought to Spoon River From Vicksburg by Captain Harris; And the lemonade stands running And the band was playing, To have it all spoiled By a piece of a cap shot under the skin of my hand, And the boys all crowding about me saying: "You'll die of lock-jaw, Charlie, sure." Oh, dear! oh, dear! What chum of mine could have done it?
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