Dear Alfred,—Your letter has only this moment reached me. You will find the parody on the next leaf; at least it is all which I recollect, and to the best of my recollection there was really nothing more. It is not masterly, tho’ not unamusing. I don’t know the author.
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GENTLY STIR AND BLOW THE FIRE.
Gently stir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roast;
Dress it quickly, I desire;
In the dripping put a toast;
Hunger that I may remove;
Mutton is the meat I love.
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On the dresser see it lie;
Oh, the charming white and red!
Finer meat ne’er met my eye;
On the sweetest grass it fed.
Let the jack go swiftly round;
Let me have it nicely brown’d.
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