"Come, walk like this," the dancer said,
"Stick out your toes--stick in your head,
Stalk on with quick, galvanic tread--
Your fingers thus extend;
The attitude's considered quaint."
The weary Bishop, feeling faint,
Replied, "I do not say it ain't,
But 'Time!' my Christian friend!"

"We now proceed to something new--
Dance as the PAYNES and LAURIS do,
Like this--one, two--one, two--one, two."
The Bishop, never proud,
But in an overwhelming heat
(His name was PETER, I repeat)
Performed the PAYNE and LAURI feat,
And puffed his thanks aloud.

Another game the dancer planned--
"Just take your ankle in your hand,
And try, my lord, if you can stand--
Your body stiff and stark.
If, when revisiting your see,
You learnt to hop on shore--like me--
The novelty would striking be,
And must attract remark."

"No," said the worthy Bishop, "no;
That is a length to which, I trow,