A White-House Ballad.—IV.

THE PIE.

King Grover at his table round

Sate feasting once, and there was sound

Of good things said and sly;

When, presently, King Grover spake:

“A murrain seize this futile cake!

Come, Daniel, pass the pie!”

Then quoth Sir Daniel, flaming hot,

“Pie hath not been in Camelot

Since Arthur was our king;

Soothly, I ween, ’twere vain to make

Demand for pie where there is cake,

For pie’s a ribald thing!”

“Despite King Arthur’s rash decree,

Which ill-beseemeth mine and me,”

King Grover answered flat,

“I will have pie three times a day,—

Let dotards cavil as they may,—

And pumpkin-pie, at that!”

Then, frowning a prodigious frown,

Sir Daniel pulled his visor down,

And, with a mighty sigh,

Out strode he to the kitchen, where

He bade the varlet slaves prepare

Three times each day a pie.

Thenceforth King Grover was content,

And all his reign in peace was spent;

And when ’twas questioned why

He waxed so hale, and why the while,

The whole domain was free from guile,

He simply answered, “Pie!”

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