A point was mine if, at the start,
I guessed the way a yarn was tending;
Miss Dell's, if by consummate art
She failed to use the obvious ending.
The first two tales she won on; three
And four were mine; five hers; six, seven
And eight I got hands down; and she
Got square with nine and ten. Eleven
Is still unwritten, and I bide
Impatiently its birth, for that'll