For the mastiff had vanish’d, and he was alone,
With nothing at hand, but the grey square stone;
Thro’ which the wind oozed with a terrible crack,
Like a shoulder of mutton spun round on the jack.
* * * * *
The Baron has put on his night-gown and cap,
To know the reason of this mishap;
The Baron has put on his cap and night-gown,
And with club-stick in hand, has gone in a fright down;
And there he discovered, oh! think how shocking,