One little boy more A napkin bore, Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink, And a Cardinal's Hat mark'd in permanent ink. The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight His costly turquoise ; And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws, By the side of his plate, While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; And nobody seems to know what they 're about, And hunting, and feeling The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. Off each plum-colour'd shoe, And left his red stockings exposed to the view; In the toes and the heels. They turn up the dishes, they turn up the plates, They examine the mugs :— And the Abbot declared that," when nobody twigg'd it, Some rascal or other had popped in, and prigg'd it!" The Cardinal rose with a dignified look, He call'd for his candle, his bell, and his book! In holy anger, and pious grief, He solemnly curs'd that rascally thief! He curs'd him at board, he curs'd him in bed; From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head; He curs'd him in sleeping, that every night He should dream of the devil, and wake in a fright; He curs'd him in eating, he curs'd him in drinking, He curs'd him in coughing, in sneezing, in winking; He curs'd him in sitting, in standing, in lying, He curs'd him in walking, in riding, in flying, He curs'd him living, he curs'd him dying!. Never was heard such a terrible curse; But, what gave rise To no little surprise, Nobody seem'd one penny the worse! The day was gone, The night came on, The monks and the friars they search'd till dawn; No longer gay, As on yesterday; His feathers all seem'd to be turn'd the wrong way; His pinions droop'd, he could hardly stand, His head was as bald as the palm of your hand; So wasted each limb, That, heedless of grammar, they all cried, "That's him! That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing! That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's ring!" The poor little Jackdaw, When the monks he saw, Feebly gave vent to the ghost of a caw; He limp'd on before, Till they came to the back of the belfry-door, Midst the sticks and the straw, Was the ring, in the nest of that little Jackdaw! Then the great Lord Cardinal call'd for his book, The mute expression Served in lieu of confession, And, being thus coupled with full restitution, When those words were heard, That poor little bird Was so changed in a moment, 'twas really absurd: In addition to that, A fresh crop of feathers came thick as a mat! Even than before; But no longer it wagged with an impudent air, With a gait devout; At Matins, at Vespers, he never was out; |