When Mother Goes To Vote

When mother goes to vote. We all get up at the peep of day and fret and fume and stew, While father lays the breakfast cloth and makes the coffee too. He always gets his fingers burned I would not dare to quote The things he says around the stove when mother goes to vote. The cat is sure to steal the cream the puppy steals the steak, And when we wash the dishes up a lot are bound to break, And baby chokes and cries enough to spit his little throat. And father seem to hate himself When mother goes to vote. We kids are all as still as mice and at attention stand, Prepared to run for curling tongs and pins at her command And father hooks her up the back and helps her with her coat and puts her in a cab when mother goes to vote. Author unknown I did not write this poem. I discovered it in a journal belonging to my Great grandmother. Her name was Minnie Ameilia (Haccansen) Tyner. She died in May 1920. She lived in Aberdeen,South Dakota