1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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