Became a sort of windmill and blew round. With bounce that went in sound as far as Dover, it Sent half the workmen sprawling to the sky; Besides some visitors who gained thereby, What they had asked--permission “to go over it!” Of course it was a very hard and high blow, And somewhat differed from what’s called a flyblow. At Cowes’ Regatta as I once observed, A pistol-shot made twenty vessels start; If such a sound could terrify oak’s heart, Think how this crash the human nerve unnerved. In fact, it was a very awful thing,-- As people know that have been used to battle, In springing either mine or mill, you spring A precious rattle! The dunniest heard it--poor old Mr. F. Doubted for once if he was ever deaf; Through Tunbridge town it caused most strange alarms; Mr. and Mrs. Fogg, Who lived like cat and dog, Were shocked for once into each other’s arms. Miss M. the milliner--her fright so strong, Made a great gobble-stitch six inches long; The veriest quakers quaked against their wish; The “Best of Sons” was taken unawares, And kick’d the “Best of Parents” down the stairs; The steadiest servant dropped the China dish; A thousand started, though there was but one Fated to win, and that was Mister Dunn, Who struck convulsively, and hooked a fish! Miss Wigings, with some grass upon her fork, Toss’d it just like a hay-maker at work; Her sister not in any better case, For taking wine, With nervous Mr. Pyne, He jerked his glass of Sherry in her face. Poor Mistress Davy, Bobb’d off her bran-new turban in the gravy; While Mr. Davy at the lower end, Preparing for a Goose a carver’s labour, Darted his two-pronged weapon in his neighbour, As if for once he meant to help a friend. The nurse-maid telling little “Jack-a-Norey,” “Bo-peep” and “Blue-cap” at the house’s top, Scream’d, and let Master Jeremiah drop From a fourth story! Nor yet did matters any better go With Cook and Housemaid in the realms below; As for the Laundress, timid Martha Gunning, Expressing faintness and her fear by fits And starts,--she came at last but to her wits, By falling in the ale that John left running.