VIII
All was arranged, and he could do no moreBut pass the time until the clock struck four.He wandered up the Market; far and wideThe burly drovers elbowed him aside,The sheep regarded him with mild surpriseBehind their hurdles, and the hairy eyesOf families of little porkers staredAnd cart-horses with braided tresses glaredAnd stamped upon the cobbles. From their shedThe calves looked bluntly round and many a headOf penned-up fowls peered through a wiry door,—“Jocko!” they cackled, “we will meet once more!”
All was arranged, and he could do no moreBut pass the time until the clock struck four.He wandered up the Market; far and wideThe burly drovers elbowed him aside,The sheep regarded him with mild surpriseBehind their hurdles, and the hairy eyesOf families of little porkers staredAnd cart-horses with braided tresses glaredAnd stamped upon the cobbles. From their shedThe calves looked bluntly round and many a headOf penned-up fowls peered through a wiry door,—“Jocko!” they cackled, “we will meet once more!”
All was arranged, and he could do no moreBut pass the time until the clock struck four.He wandered up the Market; far and wideThe burly drovers elbowed him aside,The sheep regarded him with mild surpriseBehind their hurdles, and the hairy eyesOf families of little porkers staredAnd cart-horses with braided tresses glaredAnd stamped upon the cobbles. From their shedThe calves looked bluntly round and many a headOf penned-up fowls peered through a wiry door,—“Jocko!” they cackled, “we will meet once more!”