The youth looked up with winning smile,
And said with voice as soft as ILE,
“Pickles.”
“Oh, tell me!” cried the maid divine;
“Say, tell me are they in the brine?”
“Nay,” said the youth, “that sort don’t pay,”
Quite vexed, he heard the maiden say,
“Such Pickles!”
That one so sweet should speak so tart
(The word went deep into his heart);