So K. Batsu,
A neighbor true,
To Baseball Ground he straightly go
For tell poor Ichi-ban what-so;
But Ichi-ban, who still was there, he gaz ahead with fixy stare, sometime a snort, sometime a sware, but otherwise what do he care?
“Your wife,” say Batsu, “run away.”
But Ichi-ban just snuff & say,
“The Pitcher very punk today.”
Say Batsu, “Worser news I got—
Your Wife have stole your house & lott—