MOON-PENNIES.
(Children in the Midlands give this name to the disc shaped fruit of Honesty.)
My garden is a beggar's pitch
That Heaven throws its coins upon;
And in the Summer I am rich,
And in the Winter all is gone;
Yet as the long days hurry by
I keep my pitch, content and free,
Where in a sweet profusion lie
Fair Marigolds and Honesty;
And oft I turn and count for fun
My largess from the night and noon—
The golden tokens of the sun,
The silver pennies of the moon!
"I'm sorry to 'ave to say, Mum, 'e's bin a very bad dog whilst you was hout. 'E's bin an' eat up 'is patriotic ribbon."