Your wit, that’s so piercing and smart,
Is my knife, but my lapstone your heart,
Which will not let you pity poor Clump.
THE ANSWER.
Mr. Clump, I would have you to know,
That your stuff will only work woe,
As to all cobblers I’m a terrible foe,
And so writes Kitty O’Grizzle.
With your awl you may peg till all’s blue,
And with knife cut old soles in two,