Make—us—It!

Nothing is left of that terrible rune

But a tag of gibberish tacked to a tune

That ends the waiting and settles the claims

Of children arguing over their games;

For never yet has a boy been found

To shirk his turn when the turn came round;

Or even a girl has been known to say

“If you laugh at me I sha’n’t play.”

For— “Eenee, Meenee, Mainee, Mo,