One short six months had scarcely gone,
When, full of all he’d learned,
Young Frederick, that hopeful son,
From college home returned.
To his paternal roof restored,
It was not long before
The learned man at table poured
The treasures of his lore.
“Now,” said the youngster, “father dear,
You doubtless think you see
Two roasted fowls before us here;
But I say there are three.
“Atqui these roasted fowls are two,
And one in two must be;
Ergo,—or logic is not true,—
These roasted fowls are three.”
“God bless your studies!” quoth papa;
“‘Tis just as you have said;
This is for me, that for mamma,
The third for learned Fred.”