There
was once a fine cook named Marie,
Who
baked a most wonderful pie;
I ate like a pig
But the pie was so big
I
had to quit eating or die.
Our
thanks to the cook are writ here,
Which
is rather poor pay, but sincere;
And though we may eat
All the crust and the meat,
We
won’t eat the plate, never fear.
Dec.
19, 1914
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