In this excerpt from what P.G. Wodehouse would call "a slim volume of verse," George Graham Currie (1867-1926), a Florida lawyer-poet, gives us a slice of life set to rhyme.
MARY, THE SCOTTISH FISHWIFE. AND HER DOG.
Mary had a little dog,
With teeth just like a shark;
And ev'rything that Mary said,
Would make that doggie bark.
It followed her to town each day,
Though not against her wish,
For it appears her aim in life
Was selling 'caller" fish.
And when she sang her humble cry
Upon the stone-paved street,
The dog to help was never shy
But loud her voice did greet.
And as she marches on her way,
The dog ne'er far behind,
With shaking tail and panting breath.
Much custom helps to find.
For (when) the people hear that bark,
(They know) that May is nigh;
And haste to get their dishes out.
That they some fish may buy.
But should some evil disposed one
His mistress try to rob,
That dog is there with sharkish teeth.
To make the culprit sob.
And as this world goes on apace,
And grows and fades the heather.
These simple two are never seen
Except they are together.
And as they travelled on through life,
Their friends found out at length
Their well proved motto had been this :—
In unily is strength.