I long to cut that potted beef—to taste that apple-pie;
I long—I long to eat some more, but have not strength to try.
I gasp for breath, and now I know I've eaten far too much;
Not one more crumb of all the feast before me can I touch!
Susan, oh! Susan ring the bell, and call for mother, dear.
My brain swims round—I feel it all—mother, your child is queer!
Alix (aged five, to parent who has been trying to inspire her with loyal sentiments). And was the Queen weally named after me?