Woman Hanging Laundry on Clothesline

My Clothes-Pins

My clothes-pins are but kitchen-folk,
Unpainted, wooden, small;
And for six days in every week
Are of no use at all.

But when a breezy Monday comes,
And all my clothes are out,
And want with every idle wind
To go and roam about,

Oh! if I had no clothes-pins then,
What would become of me,
When roving towels, mounting shirts,
I everywhere should see!

"I mean," a flapping sheet begins,
"To rise and soar away."
"We mean," the clothes-pins answer back,
"You on this line shall stay."

"Oh, let me!" pleads a handkerchief,
"Across the garden fly."
"Not while I've power to keep you here,"
A clothes-pin makes reply.

So, fearlessly I hear the wind
Across the clothes-yard pass,
And shed the apple-blossoms down
Upon the flowering grass.

The clothes may dance upon the line,
And flutter to and fro:
My faithful clothes-pins hold them fast,
And will not let them go.

My clothes-pins are but kitchen-folk,
Unpainted, wooden, small;
And for six days in every week
Are of no use at all.

But still, in every listening ear,
Their praises I will tell;
For all that they profess to do
They do, and do it well.

By Marian Douglas

Laundry, Wash Day, Clothesline Clip Art