“i will!—as sure as i was christen’d john!

a girl—well born—and bred,—and school’d at ditton—

accomplish’d—handsome—with a tail stuck on!

[pg 318]

and chuck’d, zounds! chuck’d in horseponds like a kitten

i wish i had been by when that was written!”—

and doubling to a fist each ample hand,

the empty air he boxed with, a-la-bitton,

as if in training for a fight, long plann’d,

with nobody—for love—at no man’s land!