On a little heap of Barley  
  Died my aged uncle Arly,  
  And they buried him one night;—  
  Close beside the leafy thicket;—  
  There, his hat and Railway-Ticket;—  
  There, his ever-faithful Cricket;—  
  (But his shoes were far too tight.)
Incidents in the Life of my Uncle Arly, st. 7 (1895).























