'Tis, “Yes, love—five reds, then a black—
(I quite agree with you)—
I've done this wrong—seven, eight, nine, ten,
An orange—then a blue!”
“If any lady comes to tea,
Her bag is first surveyed;
And if the pattern pleases her,
A copy then is made;
She stares the men quite out of face,
And when I ask her why,