“And if you give me but another note
Of your chin-music,” snarled out Number Two,
“I’ll make a wreck of you, you wretched beast,
Beyond insurance—bet your tail on that!”
Oh, lady, listen as the lay runs on!
“You are the champion snob of all the beasts!”
“And you the upper scum of all the frauds.”
“You are the weathercock of infamy.”
“And you the lightning-rod of falsehood’s spire.”
“You are a thief!” “Ditto.” “You lie.” “I ain’t.”