Rejected
Aw, yes, bah Jove. I thought you’d answer “No.”
But still a fellah ’s got to awsk, you see.
And then there was the chance you might outgrow
That way you had of making fun of me.
Three years in Europe sometimes make a change
In girls like you, who’ve always been adored;
And when you laughed, I thought it rawther strange.
Aw, I beg pawdon; p’haps you feel, aw—bored.
You don’t? You think it fun—a fellah’s pains
At words like yours? You don’t know how they smart.
I know you think I haven’t any brains;
But still, Miss Nellie, I’ve a—I’ve a heart.