III.
The Baron had a daughter
Adored by all the swains:
Oh, she had wealth and beauty
And very little brains
Her breath was sweet
As the morning dew,
Her tresses were black,
And her eyes were blue.
Her foot was cased
In a delicate shoe,
If I remember, a one and a half,
Made of the finest Parisian calf,
So instead of walking,
Of course she flew,
As some of my female
Acquaintances do.
Her food was turnips
And cabbage and steak
And milk and peaches
And pudding and cake,
Weinies and kraut and the essence of bees,
That is to say, honey and Limberger cheese,
Horseradish to make an elephant sneeze.
So by high feeding
And very little reading,
Her waist did gradually acquire considerable diameter,
And her apron-strings were full as long as Tennyson’s hexameter.