Howbeit he tumbled down in time
To join with Tom and Bob,
All in Fair Mead, which held that day
Its own fair meed of mob.
Idlers to wit—no Guardians some,
Of Tattlers in a squeeze;
Ramblers in heavy carts and vans,
Spectators up in trees.
Butchers on backs of butchers’ hacks,
That shambled to and fro!
Bakers intent upon a buck,
Neglectful of the dough!
Change Alley Bears to speculate,
As usual for a fall;
And green and scarlet runners, such
As never climbed a wall!
’Twas strange to think what difference
A single creature made;
A single stag had caused a whole
Stagnation in their trade.
Now Huggins from his saddle rose,
And in the stirrups stood;
And lo! a little cart that came
Hard by a little wood.
In shape like half a hearse—though not
For corpses in the least;
For this contained the deer alive,
And not the dear deceased!
And now began a sudden stir,
And then a sudden shout,
The prison doors were opened wide,
And Robin bounded out!
His antlered head shone blue and red,
Bedecked with ribbons fine;
Like other bucks that come to ‘list
The hawbucks in the line.
One curious gaze of wild amaze,
He turned and shortly took:
Then gently ran adown the mead,
And bounded o’er the brook.