I buttered up the fur upon my tile,
I darned the ventilators in my garments here, and there,
And with my go-to-meeting stick, and smile,
I went to see a widow, I had courted long ago;
She had just been to the Probate for a pile!
Said she, "You are a person that I really do not know"
Her tone was rather cutting, like a file!
A serious alteration in her style;
I knew her when a maiden without guile,
She wouldn't even loan me from her pile,