On Monday, when the sun is hot
I wonder to myse~'a lot:
"Now is it true, or is it not,
'That what is which and which is what?"

On Tuesday, when it hails and snows,
The feeling on me grows and grows
That hardly anybody ~nows
If those are these or these are those.

On Wednesday, when the s4 is blue,
And I have nothing else to do,
I sometimes wonder if it's true
That who is what and what is who.

On Thursday, when it starts tofreeze
And hoar-frost tw'nkles on the trees,
How very readdy'one sees
That these are whose-but whose are these?

On Friday-