Now tow'rds the cot his steps were bent,
A-musing as he onward went,
Though no bright thoughts amuse,
Until soon his mind turned to the forthcoming treat:
Though the trout are too small, little fishes are sweet,
And beggars their banquets mayn't choose.
Now he enters the door, when, instead of too late,
He discovers he has some few minutes to wait,
For the fish are not done,
As the dame had to run