Sixteen Pennies

An old crinkled piece of paper Yellowed with age laid in a box; Sixteen Indian-head pennies (Their luster as if newly mints) Were strewed atop the aged pulp. Being a curious fellow That I am (more aptly a snoop) I slipped the old stationary From the seemingly ancient box And began to read its content: Dear Master Robert Hemingway, Enclosed in this small cedar box Are the pennies you requested Each dated eighteen hundred sixty . Yours truly, Abraham Lincoln.