A packing of eggs in sum sawdust.
The tears filled her butifull eyes,
And run down her butifull nose,
And I thort it was not werry wise
To let them thus spile her nice close.
So I said to her, lowly and gently,
"Shall I elp you, O fair lovely gal?"
And she ansered, "O dear Mr. Bentley,
If you thinks as you can, why you shall."
And her butifull eyes shone like dimans,