"Now, you stupid bird!" I muttered, as about the floor it fluttered.
"Now you're sorry p'raps you came here from where'er you lived before?"
Scarcely had I time to ask it, when, upsetting first a casket,
My large-size waste-paper basket he attempted to explore,
Tore the papers with his beak, and tried its mysteries to explore, Whilst I ope'd the cage's door.
Ever in my actions quicker, I brought up the cage of wicker,
Placed it on the paper basket, and gave one loud "H-s-s-h!" once more.
When, with quite a storm of croaking, as though Dis himself invoking,
And apparently half choking, in it rushed old "Nevermore!"—
Right into the cage of wicker quickly popped old "Nevermore!" And I smartly shut the door.
Then without the least compunction, booking to St. John's Wood Junction,
To the "Zoo" my cage of wicker and its sable bird I bore.
Saw the excellent Curator, showed him the persistent prater—
Now in manner much sedater—and said, "Take him, I implore!
He's a nuisance in my study, take him, Bartlett, I implore!" And he answered, "Hand him o'er."
