But of thy clacking caustic tongue, I prithee give no more,
I'll take my passage by a breeze, to-night for Singapore,
Or anywhere the wind may blow, Japan! or Timbuctoo!
To rid me of thy clapper jaw, a flout on thee! Adieu!"
He then evaporated, and with some pride embued,
I turned, for an expression of the butler's gratitude,
But he was gone! and from his place, with india rubber shoe,
A lamp was flashed upon my face, by number 90, Q,
They're never where they're wanted, and that blue, belted elf,
Did hail me up for trespass, and for shouting to myself!