The Forgetful Forgetmenot.

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The Professor.

Pray tell me, sweet Forget-me-not,
Oh, kindly tell me where you got
Your curious name?
I’m most desirous to be told
The legend or romance of old
From whence it came.

Forget-me-not.

Indeed, good sir, it seems to me,
If you have books on Botany
Upon your shelf,
You’d better far consult those books—
He learns a thing the best who looks
It up himself.

The Professor.

I’ve works on Botany a few,
But though I’ve searched them through and through,
Never a word
Can I discover in the same
About your interesting name.

Forget-me-not.

Why, how absurd!

The Professor.

Quite so! And now what can I do?
I shall be most obliged if you
Will make it plain.

Forget-me-not.

Another time. One moment more,
And you’ll be drenched!
It’s going to pour:
I felt just now no less than four
Big drops of rain.
[Exit Professor.]

Forget-me-not.

(Aside) Indeed, I’d tell him if I knew;
But it would never, never do
If I explained
That, long ago, I quite forgot
Why I was called Forget-me-not
(It’s well it rained)!


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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