Cupid’S Bill

One summer day, poor little Cupid Sat sadly poring o’er his slate. “I fear I must be very stupid,” He said, and shook his curly pate.

And then he ran away to Venus. “Dear mother, help me! if you will, I’m sure,” he cried, “that we between us Can straighten out Sir Strephon’s bill.”

Said Venus, “Just as I expected! You always do make such a fuss With bills!” But soon it was corrected, And the account was rendered thus:

Sir Strephon— To Dan Cupid, Dr., To shooting at six maidens’ hearts. To making one blue silken fetter. To half a dozen blunted darts.

To seven arrows, lost or broken. To one heart by a blunder hit. To one new bow. To one love-token. Terms cash. No credit. Please remit.

“Hasten,” cried Venus, “do not tarry! Today is Strephon’s wedding-day. Unless he settle e’er he marry, Cupid may whistle for his pay.”