Glared down that Cat’s green eyes.
“And greener grew those fiendly orbs,
(Ay, greener than green fat),—
As, twixt a mew and screech we heard—
‘Who was it Shot the Cat?’”
Part III.
“Floating, floating, down the Thames,
Upon our backward way,
All sorts of foul and nasty things
Did seek our course to stay.