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The Postman


I'd like to be a postman, and walk along the street,
Calling out, "Good Morning, Sir," to gentlemen I meet,
Ringing every door-bell all along my beat,
In my cap and uniform so very nice and neat.
Perhaps I'd have a parasol in case of rain or heat;
  But I wouldn't be a postman if ...
      The walking hurt my feet.
        Would you?

In a published book

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