And death, whenever he looks for me,
Shall come on the road, and not on the sea.
From The London Singer’s Magazine.
The Steak.
Of steak, of steak—of prime rump steak—
A slice of half-inch thickness take,
Without a blemish, soft and sound;
In weight a little more than a pound.
Who’d cook a steak—who’d cook a steak,