The Ffolliots of Redmarley

Excerpt

  For that dread “move” you saw me through,
  For all the things you found to do. 
  For china washed and pictures hung—­
  And oh, those books, the hours among! 
  For merry heart that goes all day,
  For jest that turns work into play,
  For all the dust and dusters shared,
  For that dear self you never spared: 
  And most of all, that all of it
  Was light with laughter, spiced with wit—­
  Take, dear, my love, and with it take
  The little book you helped to make.