Destroying that fine work of Art, Nature's Scheme.
Why, I never talk scandal, you goose, and you know it;
It's no fascination whatever to me.
I could tell some, of course, for we county folk grow it
Like so many apples and pears on a tree.
I repeat, I detest such a thing beyond measure.
I'm not like dear MAUD, who my husband declares
Was invented and made to exist on the pleasure
Of dragging to light other people's affairs.
She would forward you scandalous tales by the dozen—