But she can’t abide pups,
And she flavors her cake with vanilla.
“That’s the kind I make. Of course you have to use words that rhyme, whether the sense is very good or not. I made this one too:
“There once was a lady named Biddy,
Who cried because she was a widdy;
When her husband fell dead,
She thoughtfully said,
‘He didn’t live very long, did he?’
“Now tell me some of your poetry, aunty.”
“You wouldn’t appreciate mine, child,—you couldn’t understand it.”