Part 4 (1/2)
”Why couldn't you have told me so Three quarters of an hour ago, You prince of all the a.s.ses?
”To walk four miles through mud and rain, To spend the night in smoking, And then to find that it's in vain- And I've to do it all again- It's really _too_ provoking!
”Don't talk!” he cried, as I began To mutter some excuse.
”Who can have patience with a man That's got no more discretion than An idiotic goose?
[Picture: To walk four miles through mud and rain]
”To keep me waiting here, instead Of telling me at once That this was not the house!” he said.
”There, that'll do-be off to bed!
Don't gape like that, you dunce!”
”It's very fine to throw the blame On _me_ in such a fas.h.i.+on!
Why didn't you enquire my name The very minute that you came?”
I answered in a pa.s.sion.
”Of course it worries you a bit To come so far on foot- But how was _I_ to blame for it?”
”Well, well!” said he. ”I must admit That isn't badly put.
”And certainly you've given me The best of wine and victual- Excuse my violence,” said he, ”But accidents like this, you see, They put one out a little.
”'Twas _my_ fault after all, I find- Shake hands, old Turnip-top!”
The name was hardly to my mind, But, as no doubt he meant it kind, I let the matter drop.
”Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!
When I am gone, perhaps They'll send you some inferior Sprite, Who'll keep you in a constant fright And spoil your soundest naps.
”Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick; Then, if he leers and chuckles, You just be handy with a stick (Mind that it's pretty hard and thick) And rap him on the knuckles!
”Then carelessly remark 'Old c.o.o.n!
Perhaps you're not aware That, if you don't behave, you'll soon Be chuckling to another tune- And so you'd best take care!'
”That's the right way to cure a Sprite Of such like goings-on- But gracious me! It's getting light!
Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!”
A nod, and he was gone.
[Picture: The ghost]
CANTO VII Sad Souvenaunce
[Picture: Or can I have been drinking]
”WHAT'S this?” I pondered. ”Have I slept?