His highness Yang-ki-ling,
Great China’s mighty king,
Upon his throne was sitting.
Around him courtiers all,
Lay prostrate in the hall,
In attitude most fitting.
“Approach, Feefifofum!
‘Great western traveller, come!
‘Of science learned lover!
‘Among my cooks not one,”
Thus spake the crownëd one,
“Can a new dish discover!
‘Of bind-nest soup I’m tired,
‘A dish, though much admired,
‘Which yet well bears omission:
‘Baked puppies and stewed snails,
‘Like oft-related tales,
‘Disgust on repetition!”
He spoke: “Sire,” Fum replied,
“I’ve travelled far and wide,”
His robe with terror crumpling,
“But in all the world combined
‘No better dish could find,
‘Than an English apple-dumpling!”
F. X.