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.
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