Classic Poem

You hire a cook, but she can't cook yet;
You teach her by candle, bell, and book yet;
You show her, as if she were in her cradle,
Today, the soup, tomorrow, a ladle.
Well, she doesn't learn, so although you need her,
You decide that somebody else should feed her: —
But you're kind by birth; you hate to fire her;
To tell a woman you don't require her —
So you wait and wait, and before you do it,
What thanks do you get? She beats you to it!