U was the urchin, old cook’s “petite peste”;
Of leavings and scraps she was always in quest.
V was the valet; at “dix heures” he came,
His very small master and mistress to claim.
W a wrangler, a horrid “mégère”;
Just read the next line, her name will be there.
X Xantippe was not at the party, I’m told;
Such people are always left out in the cold.