1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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