1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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