Float down bottom upwards, while close behind that
Swam jauntily after,—a big shovel hat.
No moment to ponder paused Little White Crow:
He sprang from the bank like a shaft from a bow;
He could swim like a mallard and dive like a loon,
But he reached the poor priest not a moment too soon;
Caught hold of his cassock and collared him fast,
Just while he was sinking the third time and last;
Then reaching the shore, dragged the poor Father out,
As you’d land a remarkably overgrown trout!