1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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