There's a lot in that wash: maybe you should split it into two piles.
[…] the Ambret; which Pear, though it neither grows to be so large in substance or size, as large Les Chasseries, yet bears more in number, comes sooner into bearing, tastes better in the mouth, and is commonly a long laster.
Production failures, screw-ups, and faulty service aren't usually the fault of the supposed nincompoops with whom we're dealing but instead the Nincompoopery—i.e., the meta-foolishness—of the companies and systems in which they're forced to work. Ill-planned, outdated, or ludicrous organizational structures can turn even the most eager employee into a nincompoop, or at least force him or her to seem like one.
He tries to correct this unsight in the second stanza, asking a series of speculative (and rhetorical) questions about his cousin's life.
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