Chapter_1944

5 0 00

But this poor girl was left in the great hall,

While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail,

Discussed (he hated beer yclept the “small”)

A mighty mug of moral double ale.

She waited until Justice could recall

Its kind attentions to their proper pale,

To name a thing in nomenclature rather

Perplexing for most virgins⁠—a child’s father.