X.
The first flash scared the porkers;
Their nasal snort grew still—
The second sent them cowering;
As low-bred monsters will—
The third with triple fervency,
And answering peal broke out;
Then helter-skelter from the tree
Rushed forth the filthy rout.
I looked up for my Mannikin—
I saw him clinging there
To branch and twig, to bark and bough,
The image of despair.
And ever as the gust blew strong,
He clutched with desperate paw,
And wildly chattered in affright—
"The foul fiend take the saw!"