1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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