That gets her barb well in.
"Next year," I swore, in this compunctious mood,
"I will be energetic, virtuous, kind;
Unflinching I will face the awful grind
Of being good."
I paused, half troubled by a thought—
Were my proposals too sublime?
Vowed I more deeply than I ought?
I glanced to see the time.
It was 12.10 A.M. At once a thrill,