Not a chirp from a bird,
Nor yet from a little grasshopper;
Should he knock at the shed,
Or straight walk in instead?
He wish'd to know which was most proper.
For there spread o'er his heart such a feeling of awe,
He felt nervous whenever he ugly sights saw;
And now p'rhaps the bed must be moved from the hovel,
Before at the gold he can get—then the shovel:
O dear, he's forgot it—oh, what shall he do