A matador is in her hand.’
‘And truly, madam, I know when,
Instead of five, you scored me ten.
Spadillo here has got a mark,
A child may know it in the dark.
I guessed the hand: It seldom fails.
I wish some folks would pare their nails,’
* * * * *
“At last they hear the watchman’s knock:
‘A frosty morn—past four o’clock.’