Part 2 (2/2)

Imprimus: in fish stock, an onion we stew, And anchovy essence two spoonfuls we add; With b.u.t.ter, horse-radish, and lemons a few; Mushrooms, too, in ketchup is not very bad; And pickle of walnuts with onions chopped fine, To which there is added some old sherry wine.

My doctor, so queer, when I suffer distress, Inquires what I've latterly foolishly eaten, And swears that to swallow this 'horrible mess,'

Would ent.i.tle a dog like a dog to be beaten.

But la! such a doctor knows nothing of women's complaints, And talks Latin nonsense about 'regular diet;'

And thinks that us mortals--should live more like saints, On moons.h.i.+ne and nonsense of a heavenly quiet.

He says that a woman of my plaint complaining, If she was a woman at all half discreet, Would shudder to think every day she is maiming Her stomach with trash, and such stuff as we eat!

Mrs. Merdle Describeth her Doctor.

But he's an old fogy, you may know by this sign-- He don't smoke tobacco, drink lager or wine; And swears that rich gravy, roast pork or chop, Would kill a big ostrich, if stuffed in his crop.

He told me one day 'bout the pain in my feet, 'I see what 't is ails you--you've nothing to eat!'

Provoking, absurd, foolish hint that my health Was injured by eating what station and wealth And fas.h.i.+on give right for my s.e.x to enjoy In spite of the doctors we choose to employ.

Mrs. Merdle Discourseth again on Dinner.

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 s.h.i.+ft-- 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”MY APPEt.i.tE'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 KIRF VERY TENDER AND GRAVY DELICIOUS.”]

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 appet.i.te'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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