It's a very odd thing
As odd can be
That whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.
Porridge and apples,
Mince, muffins and mutton,
Jam, junket, jumbles
Not a rap, not a button
It matters; the moment
They're out of her plate,
Though shared by Miss Butcher
And sour Mr. Bate
Tiny and cheerful,
And neat as can be,
Whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.
—Walter de la Mare