Beneath a smile; or build of wasted words
A key to wisdom’s door—wouldst thou deny me?
Ah, let me dream!
The day may bring fresh sorrows,
But the night will bring new dreams.
When this was spelled upon the board, its pathos affected Mrs. Curran to tears, and, to comfort her, Patience quickly applied an antidote in the following jingle, which illustrates not only her versatility, but her sense of humor:
Patter, patter, briney drops,
On my kerchief drying:
Spatter, spatter, salty stream,
Down my poor cheeks flying.