Barpatron: Brown Penny? A stupid name for a bar--is that your average timp? Rusty: No. It's named after-- Zane: A W.B. Yeats poem, right? Mindmistress: Oh? Interesting. Barpatron: A poem? How's it go?Rusty: Okay...here goes...'I whispered, 'I am too young', and then, 'I am old enough'; wherefore I threw a penny to find out if I might love.' Zane: Me next...

Zane: 'Go and love, go and love, young man--if the lady be young and fair--Zane: 'Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny--I am looped--in the loops--of her hair.' Mindmistress: My turn, I think.

Mindmistress: 'Ah, love is the crooked thing, there is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it--Mindmistress: For he would be thinking of love...till the stars had run away...and the shadows had eaten the moon.

Rusty: 'Ah, Penny, Brown Penny, Brown Penny--one cannot begin it--too soon.' My uncle often said that poem aloud-- Zane: Yeats' plays led me to his poetry-- Mindmistress: I rarely forget--poetry.




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