Note B — XX BETWEEN THE PIPE AND THE CHAMPAGNE
Reading edition
When you're asked to take a walk,
Look well to the weather, Lisa!
If it blows, say that you're ill,
Or else he'll make the most of it,
To work his wicked will on you.
Nay, I joke not, on my soul!
On windy days, I've oft been caught!
My love, for us poor, helpless girls,
There's naught so trait'rous as the wind.