Page:Now We Are Six (1955).pdf/66

Oh, whenever the Emperor
Got into a temper, or
 Felt himself sulky or sad,
He would murmur and murmur,
Until he felt firmer,
 This curious rhyme which he had:

Eight eights are sixty-four;
 Multiply by seven.
When it’s done,
Carry one,
 And take away eleven.
Nine nines are eighty-one;
 Multiply by three.
If it’s more,
Carry four,
 And then it’s time for tea.