Take four pretty girls

And four tidy young men;

Add papa and mamma,

And your number is ten.

Having ten in your party

You'll mostly be eight,

For you'll find you can count

Upon two to be late.

In the packing of hampers

'Tis voted a fault

To be rashly forgetful

Of corkscrew and salt.

Take a mayonnaised lobster,

A tasty terrine,

A salmon, some lamb

And a gay galantine.

Take fizz for the lads,

Claret-cup for the popsies,

And some tartlets with jam

So attractive to woppses.

Let the men do the rowing,

And all acquire blisters;

While the boats go zigzag,

Being steered by their sisters.

Then eat and pack up

And return as you came.

Though your comfort was nil,

You had fun all the same.