Page:Famous Single Poems (1924).djvu/214

 As she burst upon me with the fierce exclamation, “I have worn it three times at the least calculation,
 * And that and the most of my dresses are ripped up!”

Here I ripped out something, perhaps rather rash,
 * Quite innocent, though; but, to use an expression

More striking than classic, it “settled my hash,”
 * And proved very soon the last act of our session.

“Fiddlesticks, it is, sir? I wonder the ceiling Doesn’t fall down and crush you—oh! you men have no feeling; You selfish, unnatural, illiberal creatures, Who set yourselves up as patterns and preachers, Your silly pretense,—why, what a mere guess it is! Pray, what do you know of a woman’s necessities! I have told you and shown you I’ve nothing to wear, And it’s perfectly plain you not only don’t care, But you do not believe me” (here the nose went still higher). “I suppose, if you dared, you would call me a liar. Our engagement is ended, sir—yes, on the spot;