The beagle, sir, tucks himself up. I believe he uses his nose. But never mind. If that scrawny faded ne'er-do-well contrive to worry me on numbers I know a remedy or two.

I'll drain him dry as hay.
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his penthouse lid.
He shall live a man forbid.
Weary sev'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine."

as the saying goes.


A