Grandma knit that babe bright mittens
with a pattern circling round.
Sly Grandma took precaution,
lest one mitten meet the ground.
Grandma knit a string betwixt them,
held fast at one end and the other,
whispered, 'My babe if you keep just one
then you will keep its brother.'
Grandma reasoned thusly
but th'antecedent wasn't so.
Put elsewise, lose but one mitten,
and both the mittens go.
I wasn't sure which way of thought
should seem to me most sound
as I passed the purple mittens
lost and dusty on the ground.
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