“That’s poetic license,” explained Nan, calmly, “but of course you’re too English to see the joke.”
“Well, it’s a good tune,” said Hester; “let’s write verses for the rest.”
Many heads make light work, and though some of the girls did more than others, all helped, and the result was this fine collection of stanzas:
Oh, I am the Peeler serene,
Though never at peeling I’m seen.
The girls say I’m lazy—
I think they are crazy;
There’s nothing about me that’s green.
Chorus.
A Camera Fiend you see;