Pay! Pay!! Pay!!!
In which the Jumbler notes the profusion and the pertinacity of the Pauls and the pitiful paucity of Peters.
I'm daily robbing Peter for to pay Old Mr. Paul;
I swear it's hard them both to satisfy;
Pauls in legions me pursue, but the Peters are so few—
I lie awake at night and wonder why.
The hope of every Peter is some day to be a Paul.
Then little Peters must be set to sprout.
Ev'ry chance of Paul for pay would forever pass away
The day the tribe of Peter petered out.
