As pleased him best, on that ancient seat.
And the sculptured kings in the dawn smiled faintly—
But never a one forbade the feat!
Then, somehow and somewhere, discreetly he flitted;
And when the old verger returned for the day,
“I warrant,” he muttered, with bent brows knitted,
“Something uncanny hath passed this way!”
With the record of kings and of statesmen and sages,
This of a mischievous youth is shown:
“P. Abbott,”—a name that has lasted for ages,