The ship she gave a lurch; and—left us in it.
Then to a hen coop clung the crew of forty-five;
Mona. They’re drowned? (clasping her hands in horror.)
Prince Doodle. Oh, not at all; they’re all alive.
They flew away.
Mona. What, men!
Prince Doodle. No; geese, my dear!
I’m rather mixed. Perhaps my head is queer.
Listen, and I’ll a tale unfold to harrow——
Mona. (Shrinking back)