The other day a bunch of us “old-timers” were reminiscing
about the many uses of the long-extinct Eaton’s catalogue.
Today is mail-day. Wow I’m happy!
We go to town with mom and pappy.
We’ll drag our feet behind the sled
While mom and pop sit up ahead.
The horses move at such a pace
They’d never win a single race.
What’s in the mail? Oh, golly gee!
The Eaton’s catalogue I see.
Sis and I will finally get
The other copy, mom will let
Us cut out models and their clothes,
We’ll dress them all from head to toe.
We’ll cut out fridges, stoves that cook,
And paste them in our dream house book,
Sofas, chairs, a kitchen table,
Beds and dressers, if we’re able.
“Oh no! a page or two is gone,
Are they already in the john…?”
“Mom cut a pattern from those pages,
They’ve been missing now for ages”
Big brother wants to fold a hat
And fling some airplanes at the cat.
“Okay, as long as you don’t tear
The pages for our dream house there”
Pop says the insoles in his shoes
Are wet, some paper ones he’ll use.
Hand him some pages from the back,
The index now the book will lack.
A picture’s torn. I wonder maybe,
Did mom already give the baby
Our catalogue to rip and tear,
To keep him out of mother’s hair?
Mom needs the cover to pick up dust,
Her dustpan’s gone – it is a must!
And little sister, sick in bed,
Wants to color now instead.
She’s read the brand new catalogue
And now she is allowed to hog
Our catalogue, but with her crayons
She’d best not touch the part we play on!
Darn! It’s time to wash the dishes.
Why is our family so ambitious?
Sometimes I envy Mr. Brown
Who lives the other side of town.
That old bachelor doesn’t own
A single dish, he lives alone.
The Eaton’s catalogue’s his dish,
Whether he has stew or fish.
The top page of this handy book
Is where he eats. I watched him cook
He asked me if I’d like a plate
I told him I’d already ate.
He tore the page off when he’d ‘et
His plate for his next meal was set.
Oh no! Pop says the outdoor toilet
Is low on paper – he would spoil it!
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