She was a maid of high degree,
To her came wooing, suitors three,
The first was rich, as rich could be,
The second nobly born was he.
But nothing in the world had three,
In fact he was a nobody;
And this fair maid of high degree
Could not decide between the three.
So to their every sigh and plea,
She only answered, "Wait and see."
Until the rich one, off went he,
To wed in the nobility!
The poor young lord then met, you see,
A girl with hundred thousands three!
And this fair maid of high degree,
Was left with one instead of three.
So lonely and deserted, she
Was bound to smile on number three.
"He's nobody, of course," said she,
"I'll take and make him somebody."
So they were married, he and she,
And wisely, too, it seems to me.
'Twas Hobson's choice, as you can see,
'Twas either he, or nobody.
[Illustration]
Now, considering that I've got to do some hundred-yard dashes up and
down a twenty-foot flat with my youngest son, I think I'll say
good-night.
May your slumbers be more peaceful than mine.
[Illustration]
The End.
Transcriber's Notes:
The copy used as the basis for this digital edition was missing its back
cover, so some advertising is omitted.
Some questionable spelling (e.g. merangue, assult) has been retained
from the original where other contemporary uses of the same spelling
have been found.
Some inconsistent hyphenation retained (working-man vs. workingman).