So he spar’d the expence of a Masquerade suit.—
If any one there could be odder than that,
’Twas that leathery, feathery mongrel, the Bat,
Who, when told that no ticket admitted a Mouse,—
Took huff as a bird, and flew out of the house.
The Flying-fish, too, shall come in for his share,
Who in haste from the ocean contriv’d to be there,
Just to make the Bird-fanciers puzzle and stare.
But see from the mountains of Scotland, the Ousel—
Our motley community bent to bamboozle—