Straight he leapt upon my bed. I simply gave a stifled roar;
And I cried, “As I’m a sinner, at a Goose Club I was winner,
’Tis a mem’ry of my dinner, which I ate at half-past four;
Goose well stuffed with sage and onions, which I ate at half-past four.”
Quoth he hoarsely, “Eat no more!”
Said I, “I’ve enjoyed your juices, breast and back; but tell me, Goose, is
This revenge, and what the use is of your being such a bore?
For goose-flesh I will no more ‘ax’ if you’ll not sit on my thorax.
Go, try honey mixed with borax, for I hear your throat is sore;
You speak gruffly though too plainly, and I’m sure your throat is sore.”