Cxxxii

Only,--you do not use to apprehend attack! No doubt, the way I march, one idle arm, thrown slack Behind me, leaves the open hand defenceless at the back, Should an impertinent on tiptoe steal, and stuff --Whatever can it be? A letter sure enough, Pushed betwixt palm and glove! That largess of a franc? Perhaps inconsciously,--to better help the blank O' the nest, her tambourine, and, laying egg, persuade A family to follow, the nest-egg that I laid May have contained--but just to foil suspicious folk-- Between two silver whites a yellow double yolk! Oh, threaten no farewell! five minutes shall suffice To clear the matter up. I go, and in a trice Return; five minutes past, expect me! If in vain-- Why, slip from flesh and blood, and play the ghost again!