We played at 'Beaver' as we Strode This morning down the Nanking One point for every Beaver met We had a dollar on the set.
I turned, when leading five to three, To score a beautiful goatee.
When Phyllis gave a sudden ery As twelve huge men went marching And thrice repeated as they came "That's fifteen—thirty—forty Of course I know the rules are sv, But... twelve Big Beavers at blow.
I cannot let the matter rest, I wish to enter a protest.
And in the interests of a game Now rising to immortal fame, I must request the Council grave Kindly to ask the Sikhs to shave.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.