But you are not eating, and I fear that the fish, Or else 't is the gravy's not done to your wish. You're starving while waiting for something to eat—    Thank fortune I told you how poorly we live—    I hope John now will give us a piece of roast meat, Or else such a dinner you'd never forgive. Why yes, Merdle, look, there is beef on that dish—    Jane Hill, don't you see, there's a plate here to shift—    That John is now bringing—'t is all he can lift—    And Colonel, that turkey, you know 't is my wish—    You know that Excelsior's your motto in carving—    As nothing more now we shall have on the table    “We'll eat and give thanks this day that we're able To keep our poor bodies entirely from starving. Now Susan's this all that you've been able to pick up? Oh, no! there's a ham, and it's done to a turn So nice, that the nose of a Jew needn't stick up; And a tongue—well, a tongue I never could spurn; It's nice while the wine at our leisure we sip; And good with a cracker in wine we can dip.     {Illustration: “MY APPETITE'S NONE OF THE BEST AND SO I MUST PAMPER THE DELICATE THING. AND TICKLE A FANCY THAT'S VERY CAPRICIOUS WITH BITS OF A TURKEY, THE BREAST OR THE WING. WITH KIRF VERY TENDER AND GRAVY DELICIOUS."} 

  

  

       Mrs. Merdle Accepteth of a slight Dinner, suitable for a Woman suffering with Dyspepsia.     

    Some turkey? why yes—the least mite will suffice; A side bone and dressing and bit of the breast; The tip of the rump—that's it—and one o' the fli's—    In spite of the doctor: my appetite's none of the best, And so I must pamper the delicate thing, And tickle a fancy that's very capricious With bits of a turkey, the breast or the wing, With beef very tender, and gravy delicious. Some beef now? I thank you, not any at present; I'll nibble a little at what I have got, And wish for a duck, or a grouse, or a pheasant, Though none of them come for a wish, in the pot. 

  

  

       Mrs. Merdle Discourseth of Wishes and her Sufferings.     

    'If wishes were horses'—I've heard when a girl—    'If wishes were horses, the beggars would ride'—    If wishes were pheasants, I'd wish with a skirl Till cooked ones came flying and sat by my side. A fig, then, for doctors, their tinctures and drugs; Good eating would cure me, with plenty of game; And as for pill boxes, and bottles, and jugs, I 

 Prev. P 13/20 next