Monty standing upright, paw on chest, declaiming:
Here’s a poem by Christina Rossetti, about holly and other plants…
A ROSE has thorns as well as honey,
I’ll not have her for love or money;
An iris grows so straight and fine
That she shall be no friend of mine;
Snowdrops like the snow would chill me;
Nightshade would caress and kill me;
Crocus like a spear would fright me;
Dragon’s-mouth might bark or bite me;
Convolvulus but blooms to die;
A wind-flower suggests a sigh;
Love-lies-bleeding makes me sad;
And poppy-juice would drive me mad: –
But give me holly, bold and jolly,
Honest, prickly, shining holly;
Pluck me holly leaf and berry
For the day when I make merry.
Rosie: Humphf. So - A Rosie has thorns as well as honey,
I’ll not have her for love or money - is that so?
Monty: Um. Er. It's only a poem, Rosie.
Rosie: Humphf. What about a Monty, then? What about a Monty? A Monty has, um, has smells as well as fur and I'll not have him for bones and gravy. Hmmm - well, um, mabye for bones and gravy... But I wouldn't have him for spinach. No! See!
Monty: Yes, Rosie. Actually, life would be grey and sad without you.
Rosie: Urk! Shuddup, Lunkhead!
Monty: Yes, Rosie.
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