The Poetry Corner

The Dinner-bell Rings.

By Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle Describes the Sufferings of Dyspepsia and its Remedy. But come, now, I hear by the sound of the ringing That dinner is ready; and time none to spare To finish our eating in time for the singing At Niblo's; or at Burton's drop in for a stare. To 'kill time' the object, whatever the source is, And that is the reason we sit at the table And call for our dinner in slow-coming courses, To kill, while we eat, all the time we are able. Though little, I told you, that's worthy your taste You'll find on our table, pray don't think us mean-- Your welcome is ample--that's better than waste-- Oh! here comes the soup in a silver tureen-- 'Tis mock turtle too--so good for digestion: That kills me by inches, the wretched complaint Dyspepsia--to cure which, I take by suggestion Port-wine in the soup, when I feel slightly faint.