I love the fragrant chicken pie
That blooms in early spring;
I love a chicken stew or fry,
Or any old thing.
Mr. 'Possum's poem was short, but it went right to the spot, and the way
they applauded almost made Jack Rabbit jealous. He said that it was
'most too true to be good poetry, but that it was good for a first
effort, and that being short helped it. Then Mr. Robin spoke his piece: