Quoth the tailor, “Tick-no-more!”
XVI.
“Dun!” I cried, “inhuman creature, human still in form and feature,
By the piper who performed for Moses in the days of yore,
Tell me won’t, oh! brainless brute, your firm supply to me in future
Raiment of unequalled suture—genuine make of Baize and Blore,
Clothes of rare and radiant suture—splendid make of Baize and Blore?”
Quoth the tailor, “Tick-no-more!”
XVII.
“Then be off, you sour curmudgeon!” cried I, starting up in dudgeon,