when you rang at Dick Mid's Place

the madam was a bulb stuck in the door.

a fang of wincing gas showed how

hair, in two fists of shrill colour,

clutched the dull volume of her tumbling face

scribbled with a big grin.  her sow-

eyes clicking mischief from thick lids.

the chunklike nose on which always the four

tablets of perspiration erectly sitting.

—If they knew you at Dick Mid's

the three trickling chins began to traipse

into the cheeks "eet smeestaire steevensun

kum een, dare ease Bet, an Leelee, an dee beeg wun"

her handless wrists did gooey severe shapes.