Impalement on the tie of Trotter fearing—
Into back rooms and closets disappearing.
The halls are empty, Empty—pshaw!
Fill'd—as a new-dined turkey's craw,
By the triumphant and expansive Trotters.
"Now really, Trotter" (Smythson from the door—
He couldn't enter), "tell me what this means.
I'm glad to see you—no one could be more;
But still in good society—these scenes—
You're a good fellow—no one could be better—