Of Griggs and Sons, where groceries obtain,
I seek, not lightly nor in careless haste
As men buy bloaters or anchovy paste,
Who fling the cash down with abstracted air,
Crying, "Two tins, please," or "I'll take the pair,"
But reverently and with concentred gaze
Lest Griggs's varlet (drat his casual ways!),
Intrigued with passing friend or canine strife,
Leave half of thee adhering to the knife—
My butter ration! If symbolic breath