1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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