One day the man popped out, on bus’ness intent;
The parrot, as usual, had charge while he went.
A cat, as it chanced, of a mouse in full chase
Bounced into the shop. This poor Poll could not face.5
From perch away flew she; took refuge on shelf;
Some jars she knocked over; the oil spread itself.
The master returning, first sat himself down,
As lord of the manor; the shop was his own.
The oil-pools he spied, and then Polly’s wet coat;
A blow on the head made her feathers drop out.