From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 99-100.
CHEESE
On wintry nights and rainy days
I often sit beside the blaze
And Hannah, while I toast my shins,
Will read to me some bulletins.
Among instructive college prints,
There’s none more full of helpful hints
Than that which tells us forty ways
To use the cheeses and the wheys,
Each one of which deserves our praise.
Before I heard that treatise wise
I filled myself with meats and pies,
With four boiled eggs and things like these,
And then I ate a hunk of cheese.
I had the stomach ache all night,
And my nightmares came my soul to fright.
I tossed about with grief and groans,
While all the neighbors heard my moans.
From this good bulletin I learn,
That when for cheese our bosoms yearn,
We should not first take all that comes,
Then add the cheese to full-fed tums
But we should think of it as meat,
And use discretion when we eat.
[100]
For this my gratitude is deep;
I wisely dine, then sweetly sleep,
No more I thrash around and weep.
Instead of ghosts and specters grim,
I dream of saints and seraphim.
In loaf or casserole or rabbit,
The use of cheese is now a habit.
No book of poems brings me bliss
To equal bulletins like this.