“O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot,
Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot.”
“That’s silly,” said Polly, scornfully.
“Poetry usually is silly,” Ned answered.
Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly. “I’ve got it!” he cried. “Listen!
“O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits,
Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!”
A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, “What are cabbits?”
“Cabbits are vegetables,” replied Laurie.
“I never heard of them,” said Polly, wrinkling her forehead.
“Neither did any one else,” laughed Ned. “He just made them up to rhyme with rabbits.”