Oh, such funny, nice things come into my head out here by myself,
I do wish I could run up and put them down in my thought book
before I forget them, but Aunt Miranda wouldn't like me to leave
off weeding:--

Rebecca was weeding the hollyhock bed
When wonderful thoughts came into her head.
Her aunt was occupied with the rolling pin
And the thoughts of her mind were common and thin.

That wouldn't do because it's mean to Aunt Miranda, and anyway it
isn't good. I MUST crawl under the syringa shade a minute, it's
so hot, and anybody has to stop working once in a while, just to
get their breath, even if they weren't making poetry.

Rebecca was weeding the hollyhock bed When marvelous thoughts
came into her head. Miranda was wielding the rolling pin And
thoughts at such times seemed to her as a sin.

How pretty the hollyhock rosettes look from down here on the
sweet, smelly ground!

"Let me see what would go with rosetting. AIDING AND ABETTING,
PETTING, HEN-SETTING, FRETTING,--there's nothing very nice, but I
can make fretting' do.

Cheered by Rowena's petting,
The flowers are rosetting,
But Aunt Miranda's fretting
Doth somewhat cloud the day."