Of that gnurly forefinger. And there Cic would
stand,
For he wouldn’t be yankin’ away from that hand,
Unless in his desperate efforts to skip
Cic dodged from his toga, and gave Brown the
slip.
And it’s likely that Brown would talk something
like this:
I ain’t at all anxious to shift with you, Cic.
Your hoss, I’ll admit, has got plenty of speed,