His eyes, like burning beads,
Took root in her inmost soul the while,
As deep as the ditch-grown weeds.
"You smile. Ha, ha! to smile and laugh
Is better than aye to frown
It's fitter to whiffle away the chaff
That covers a golden crown.
"It's better to whittle away the cheat
Of mankind if you can."
And he cracked his whip. "It's a fair deceit