Ix

Up, up the chimney go the sparks apace; Up, up, to vanish in the gusty sky. The black cat--look! he leaves his wonted place, And hark! he speaks: "Then, king of cats am I!" And with this first and last word for good-by, Up, up the chimney he hath vanished quite. "Our dear, our good Black Prince!" the children cry; "We always thought he should be king by right, But we shall miss him sadly, both by day and night."