Babykin

There is nothing so sweet, or so quaintly complete As a dear little babykin's queer little feet, With their ten tiny toes like the buds of a rose And their heels soft as velvet.

Italia was two years and two months old, And Tony was a babykin two months old.

But the babykin wouldn't stop screaming, and if you've ever heard Fried sing, you'll know why.