1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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