We dug our rose cakes up oh! all too soon.
'Twas in the orchard just at noon.
'Twas in a bright July forenoon.
'Twas in the sunny afternoon.
'Twas underneath the harvest moon.
It was not that way at all; it was a foggy morning before school, and I
should think poets could never possibly get to heaven, for it is so hard
to stick to the truth when you are writing poetry. Emma Jane thinks it
is nobody's business when we dug the rosecakes up. I like the line about
the harvest moon best, but it would give a wrong idea of our lives and
characters to the people that read my Thoughts, for they would think we
were up late nights, so I have fixed it like this: