As I came through the door at a run,
And I brushed seven customers waiting aside,
And the banker chap calmly begun,
“I should say about nine pounds a ton.”
AT PENNYWEIGHT FLAT
“PSHAW! A FLY SPECK—A FLY SPECK HE SAID”
[106]
]I will swear that my hair turned a peony red,
And my visage an emerald green,
As he scraped off the gilt from a pound weight of lead;