V
On sped the pram nor did the nurse’s pace Leave time to miss our hero from his place. Flat by the curb lay Jocko, still and pale, Till a rude sparrow plucked him by the tail And up he sat;—the sparrow hopped around And eyed him seated sadly on the ground, Propped up against the parapet and grey With grime and dust that in the gutter lay. Then Jocko spoke, he smoothed his sullied fur With one long trembling paw, and thought of her And said, all torn betwixt his love and pain,— “I will go back no more to Betsey-Jane.”