The day when I to market hied,
In search of one with sprats to sell—
Sprats in which childhood might confide.
I bought them, and the savoury fish
On yonder gridiron then were broiled
Experience is a bitter dish,
I had it then—the sprats were spoiled!
Punch’s Almanac, 1846.
——:o:——
WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE.