The poem
Clorinda met me on the way As I came from the train; Her face was anything but gay, In fact, suggested pain. "Oh hubby, hubby dear!" she cried, "I've awful news to tell. . . ." "What is it, darling?" I replied; "Your mother -- is she well?"
"Oh no! oh no! it is not that, It's something else," she wailed, My heart was beating pit-a-pat, My ruddy visage paled. Like lightning flash in heaven's dome The fear within me woke: "Don't say," I cried, "our little home Has all gone up in smoke!"
She shook her head. Oh, swift I clasped And held her to my breast; "The children! Tell me quick," I gasped, "Believe me, it is best." Then, then she spoke; 'mid sobs I caught These words of woe divine: "It's coo-coo-cook has gone and bought A new hat just like mine."