The gizzard got into its place,
But how Santiago knows best:
And so, by the help of the Saint,
Did the liver and all the rest.
The heads saw their way to the bodies,
In they came from the yard without check,
And each took its own proper station,
To the very great joy of the neck.
And in flew the feathers, like snow in a shower,
For they all became white on the way;
And the Cock and the Hen in a trice were refledged,
And then who so happy as they!
Cluck! cluck! cried the Hen right merrily then,
The Cock his clarion blew,
Full glad was he to hear again
His own cock-a-doo-del-doo!
PART III.
"A miracle! a miracle!"
The people shouted, as they might well,
When the news went through the town
And every child and woman and man
Took up the cry, and away they ran
To see Pierre taken down.
They made a famous procession
My good little women and men,
Such a sight was never seen before
And I think will never again.
Santiago's Image, large as life,
Went first with banners and drum and fife;
And next, as was most meet,
The twice-born Cock and Hen were borne
Along the thronging street.
Perched on a cross-pole hoisted high,
They were raised in sight of the crowd;
And when the people set up a cry,
The Hen she cluck'd in sympathy,
And the Cock he crow'd aloud.
And because they very well knew for why
They were carried in such solemnity,
And saw the Saint and his banners before 'em
They behaved with the greatest propriety,
And most correct decorum.