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.