The Wit of Women

Behind a market-stall installed, I mark it every day, Stands at her stand the fairest girl I've met within the bay; Her two lips are of cherry red, Her hands a pretty pair, With such a charming turn-up nose, And lovely reddish hair.

'Tis there she stands from morn till night, Her customers to please, And to appease their appetite She sells them beans and peas. Attracted by the glances from The apple of her eye, And by her Chili apples, too, Each passer-by will buy.

She stands upon her little feet Throughout the livelong day, And sells her celery and things-- A big feat, by the way. She changes off her stock for change, Attending to each call; And when she has but one beet left, She says, "Now, that beats all."

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As to puns in conversation, my only fear is that they are too generally indulged in. Only one of this sort can be allowed, and that from the highest lady in the land, who is distinguished for culture and good sense, as well as wit. A friend said to her as she