There isn't a thing but she has if she wants.
So, last night at the Christmas-tree, Fanny,
—It was so funny I laugh at it now—
There was Miss Marion sweeter than honey,
All in her ruffles and butterfly-bow;
She had presents, I thought, enough for a
dozen,
But she seemed heavy-hearted in spite of
it all;
Her sweet little mouth was all of a quiver,