Deaf House Agent
That deaf old man
With his hand to his ear--
His hand to hi head stood out like a shell,
Horny and hollow. He said, "I can't hear,"
He muttered, "Don't shout,
I can hear very well!"
He mumbled, "I can't catch a word;
I can't follow."
Then Jack with a voice like a Protestant bell
Roared--"Particulars! Farmhouse! At 10 quid a year!"
"I dunno wot place you are talking about."
Said the deaf old man.
Said Jack, "What the Hell!"
But the deaf old man took a pin from his desk, picked
a piece of wool the size of a hen's egg from his ear,
had a good look at it, decided in its favour and re-
placed it in the aforementioned organ.
Katherine Mansfield's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Deaf House Agent by Katherine Mansfield )
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)