A workman's whippet began to snarl;
Into the Dodder a splash he went;
All that he cared was to change the scent,
And half of the pack from the line he shook
By paddling about in the Beaver Brook.
He swerved to the left at Maynard Keynes,
With an eye to sheep and an eye to drains;
By Old Cole Smiley and Clere St. Thomas,
Without any stops and without any commas;