1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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