Two twins, the little
Deah cherub creechahs,
Now wipe the teahs,
From off his classic feachahs.
Oh sweet lot, worthy
Angel arisen,
To wipe the teahs,
From eyes like his’en.
“What think you of it?” says she as I finished readin’.
I looked right at her most a minute with a majestic look. In spite of her false curls, and her new white ivory teeth, she is a humbly critter. I looked at her silently while she sot and twisted her long yeller bunnet strings, and then I spoke out,