The husdand threw a hateful look -
A kind of optic snarl and
Growl - on wifeys cookery book,
By Marion Harland.
'Some of these recipes I see
Begin with crosses sable;
The meaning please explain to me,
If you are able.'
'She thus marks those that she has tried,
And finds them nicely fitted,
For dinner use' the wife replied,
And hubby's dullness pitied.
'I thought these crosses now' said he,
With brutal sneer and vicious,
'Erected to the memory,
Of the men who ate those dishes.'