The Forgetful Forgetmenot.
The Professor.
Pray tell me, sweet Forget-me-not,
Oh, kindly tell me where you got
Your curious name?
I’m most desirous to be told
The legend or romance of old
From whence it came.
Forget-me-not.
Indeed, good sir, it seems to me,
If you have books on Botany
Upon your shelf,
You’d better far consult those books—
He learns a thing the best who looks
It up himself.
The Professor.
I’ve works on Botany a few,
But though I’ve searched them through and through,
Never a word
Can I discover in the same
About your interesting name.
Forget-me-not.
Why, how absurd!
The Professor.
Quite so! And now what can I do?
I shall be most obliged if you
Will make it plain.
Forget-me-not.
Another time. One moment more,
And you’ll be drenched!
It’s going to pour:
I felt just now no less than four
Big drops of rain.
[Exit Professor.]
Forget-me-not.
(Aside) Indeed, I’d tell him if I knew;
But it would never, never do
If I explained
That, long ago, I quite forgot
Why I was called Forget-me-not
(It’s well it rained)!
