Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Again On Dinner.

A poem by Horatio Alger, Jr.

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.

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