For the turn of a rush would have cost him his dinner.
But kind Fate had determined he should not get thinner,
For the Abbot departed without a word more,
And so neither the fish nor the little hook saw,
Which was dangling about—quite in sight you'll suppose,
As he nearly was caught once or twice by the nose.
"Ah, ah, ah!" said the friar, "now isn't it good?
But I'd better not crow till he's out of the wood.
I'm certain he's left me to look for the money,
The greedy old fellow: now isn't it funny,