"May my timbers now be shivered—" oh, at this my poor heart quivered,—
"If you don't beat any parson that I ever met before!
You've not hurt me; stow your prosing"—then his huge peacoat unclosing,
Straight he showed the heavy parcel, which beneath his arm he bore,—
Showed a cage which held a parrot, such as Crusoe had of yore, Which at once drew corks and swore.
Much I marvelled at this parrot, green as grass and red as carrot,
Which, with. fluency and ease, was uttering sentences a score,
And it pleased me so immensely, and I liked it so intensely,
That I bid for it at once; and when I showed of gold my store,
Instantly the sailor sold it; mine it was, and his no more; Mine it was for evermore.
Prouder was I of this bargain, e'en than patriotic Dargan,
When his Sovereign, Queen Victoria, crossed the threshold of his door;—
Surely I had gone demented—surely I had sore repented,
Had I known the dreadful misery which for me Fate had in store,
Known the fearful, awful misery which for me Fate had in store, Then, and now, and evermore!
