O. Henry, Afrite-chef of all delight!—
Of all delectables conglomerate
That stay the starved brain and rejuvenate
The mental man. Th' esthetic appetite—
So long anhungered that its "in'ards" fight
And growl gutwise,—its pangs thou dost abate
And all so amiably alleviate,
Joy pats its belly as a hobo might
Who haply hath attained a cherry pie
With no burnt bottom in it, ner no seeds—
Nothin' but crispest crust, and thickness fit,
And squshin'-juicy, and jes' mighty nigh
Too dratted drippin'-sweet fer human needs,
But fer the sosh of milk that goes with it.