Chapter L

I sing in every lullaby,
I'm out in every squall;
I ring in every shilling piece,
And roll in every ball.

{342}

K

I am baked in a cake, but I never see bread,
I can fork hay, and rake, but I can't lie in bed;
I can like, but not love; though no doe, I'm with the buck;
I'm in kite, but not in dove; and I'm always in luck.

J

I'm in a baby-jumper, and with joy I laugh and sing,
But I quickly find myself shut up in jail,
Where I pass my time in jokes, or perhaps in conjuring,
Till I lead the Judge, who says I'm "out on bail."