LXII
“WELL,” murmur’d one, “let whoso make or buy,
All in one Pickle we—like as we lie:
For let the right Good-Fellow come along,
We all may lay the Ball dead by and by.”
LXIII
SO one and one and one I heard them speak:
“Ah, Friends,” said I, “’tis not a Make we seek,
A Duffer arm’d with all the Clubs there be—
What is he to a Player with a Cleek?”
* * * *