Poem: As She is Spelt by C.J. Dennis

Dear children: In this spelling bee
You have my deepest sympathy;
   For, in the days when I was yongue,
   Tho' werds tripped glibly from my toung,
Whene'er I came to spell them oubt
I found myself in dreadful dout
   Trigh as I wood, strive as I mite,
   I cood not tell the rong from wright.

I never new, I never saugh
A spelling book, but I cried "Faw!
   There's not won rool in awl the lot
   That has not sum exceptions got."
I red the lessons threw and threw,
Yet when into a man I grough
   I never coodd lern hough to spell
   Dou yew?  I hope yough do -- and well.

First published in The Herald, 8 July 1930