A Memory

Soubrette,

My pet,

I cannot forget.

Although you have gone,

And I am forlorn,

Your presence so sweet,

And the things that you eat,

And my old pocketbook,

Now sorely forsook,

And the thousand things more,

As I run them o’er,

I cannot forget,

My pet,

Soubrette.

July 26, 1895

B. Courier,

Nov. 10, ‘95