Part 7

Upon the bar, not very far

From Captain Silereen,

A horned owl took a lengthy look

Around the gloomy scene.

 

Its sight so keen it must have seen

A mouse traverse the floor.

Hence came its cry and reason why

It wasn’t there before.

 

It must have been within the inn,

(For birds don’t just appear).

And when it spied the mouse it cried

Its cry that sounded queer.

 

Yet it just stood as such birds would

When there was not a squeak,

And by surprise it met our eyes,

And then began to speak:

‘O what a vibrant company

Amidst the gloomy misery.

For years this inn hath lacked the glee

That ousteth silence instantly.

 

But all thy speeches brought the sound

At last within this hollow hall.

Hear how ’tis spreading all around,

And echoing off ev’ry wall.

 

Now from my perch just over there

Concealed in gloom and bitter cold,

I heard thy speeches stir the air

To tell the tales ye all had told.

 

Which all intrigued me, I dare say,

That soon I started drawing near.

I left my perch without delay,

And one, two, three, I’m perching here.’

 

‘This inn has stranger just become

As it much more has bleak.

Have I now gone completely mad

Or did that owl just speak?’

 

‘I know ’tis utterly absurd,

Yet by mine ear it spoke our way.

For, Music Man, this very bird

Is that which Meisner met that day.’

 

‘Indeed, good Music Man, I’m he,

That talking avian. That sage

Who comes and goes so secretly,

And hath six hundred years of age.

 

Old Meisner found the fork that day

Without a trace of bitter shame.

He met me there, then dashed away,

And now I hear it bears his name.

 

Now E? In here? I’m most aghast!

I thought thou dost prefer the sun.

It matters not, but finish fast,

Thy time away is nearly done.

And now I must take leave of ye,

For I have other things to do.

And so ta-ta! Haree! Haree!

Geronimo! Tu-whoo! Tu-whoo!’

 

‘Good owl, I pray, ere thou shouldst go,

There’s something of that final trek

Old Meisner made I yearn to know:

What made him come to be a wreck?’

 

‘Although I’m most sagacious, E,

I know not what had caused his wreck.

Perhaps ’twas but my words or me,

Or something else along his trek.

 

And now I shall take leave of ye

To start my list of things to do.

And so ta-ta! Haree! Haree!

Geronimo! Tu-whoo! Tu-whoo!’

 

It flew until it reached the sill

And wailed a shrieking wail.

For there the cat (awake from that)

Had caught it by the tail.

 

‘Unhand me, cat! I’m not for thee!

This feathered flesh would make thee ill!

’Twill curse thee, cat, I guarantee

’Twill curse thee straight upon this sill!’

 

The cat released. The bird increased

Its speed, and flew away.

The cat untied its tongue and cried

Towards the bird of prey:

 

‘That was not my intent, good owl,

That would have been absurd!

I but desired with thee some sport,

I’m wedded to a bird!’

 

The striped cat sighed, then turned aside

And licked himself with care.

From head to paw, from claw to claw,

Then raised its yellow stare.

‘Now, gentlemen, how have ye gall

To look at me like that?

It seems as though ye never saw

A vocalizing cat.’

 

‘Of course we’ve never seen such cats,

You silly circus freak!

For it’s what we would call taboo:

No animal can speak!’

 

O Colin Devans, Music Man,’

The tranquil cat began,

‘I thought thou hast thy folly seen,

And art an altered man.

 

For, sir, thy words insult us all,

That I can scarcely see

The link to how thou livest well,

And hast a family.

 

Dismiss these horrid hostile thoughts,

And be not stunned to see

A cat who broke the great taboo

To have a word with thee.

 

For, gentlemen, give ear to me

And mark what I shall tell:

’Tis true we cats are animals,

Yet is not Man as well?

 

’Tis so, and thus both beast and fowl

Can speak for speech abounds.

Man merely disregards our words,

Thus merely hears our sounds.

 

The fact ye all now concentrate

On hearing ev’ry word

Is why ye understand me now,

And understood the bird.

 

And thus ’twas odd the owl had called

Himself the talking bird,

For ev’ry creature known to Man

Doth know the spoken word.’

‘There’s something new you learn each day,

As if it’s all some game.

And yet you have bewildered me

By how you know my name.

 

For ev’ry time I see you, cat,

You’re there upon the sill,

And fast asleep while all this gloom

Suppresses ev’ry thrill.’

 

‘Although mine eyes be calmly shut,

My body rather still,

In sooth I’m merely half-asleep

Upon this windowsill.

 

I heard thy speeches loud and clear

As each one spread around

To ev’ry corner of the inn

At long last bringing sound.

 

And thus I came to know thou art,

A music man from Tohr

Who made a sinful pact, and now

Hath banes for him in store.

 

I know thou art a mariner,

Thy name is Silereen.

A slave boy first, now captain of

The HMS Irene.

 

And thou dost man the fork with V,

Indeed I know thee, E:

A youthful man although of age

Four hundred fifty-three.

 

And ye are Trent and James, the sleuths

Who ventured to the mill

In order to obtain the truths

Behind Horrific Hill.

 

And last ye young Hamarians,

Ye bear the name Eskare.

Thy youngest boy became a bird,

And gave ye all a scare.

If that be not enough to prove

That I was half-asleep,

Shall I recount the tales ye told,

And reenact thy threap?’

 

‘These men had an argument? When was this, cat?

When had it occurred? O, please tell us that.’

‘O, Eddy, don’t ask that, the answer is clear,

They had before we had come to be here.’

 

‘Indeed before you marched in here,’

Said Captain Silereen,

‘Our quarrel sprung, and grew so queer

’Twas not a pretty scene.

 

Now, cat, no need for you to show

You know much more that’s true.

You’ve spoken well, we know you know,

So now let’s learn of you.’

 

‘So shall I do lest ye but think

Me dull or filled with shame.

My tale is one I love to tell,

But first, of course, my name:

 

Some call me by the name I bear-"

Orion Gregory.

But others call me Romeo,

And why, ye soon shall see.

 

Not far beyond my cottage sill

There lay a blue bird’s tree.

And that same blue bird was a sight

That always dazzled me.

 

As she was fair, I knew ’twas her

That I would e’er revere.

Yet as I plainly am a cat,

I could not dare draw near.

 

At times she left to soon return,

And nothing seemed absurd

Until one day she left for good

With some flamboyant bird.

Or so it seemed, for once fair Spring

Had ousted Winter’s chill,

My bird returned, yet came to perch

Instead upon my sill.

 

It came about my darling bird

Knew I had loved her so.

She knew I had been watching her;

She knew about my woe.

 

For she had left that bird for me,

Aware and well assured

Her heart did not belong to him,

Nor any other bird.

 

Then with a grin she made a chink

Within my windowpane.

She said to kiss her through that chink,

And I did not refrain.

 

And now we’re married happily,

Although our bond seems queer.

And we have been as of last week

Together for a year.’

 

‘Did I just hear you say a year?’

Trent’s eyes were open wide,

‘And well or ill you live on still

With loyalty and pride?

 

That shine or rain your loves remain?’

The cat gave Trent a nod,

‘Well look at that! A bird and cat,

A bond that’s deemed so odd.’

 

‘And yet despite that oddity,

They both remain content,

And live in utter harmony

With nothing to resent.

 

O, cat, may life preserve you well,’

The captain gave a grin,

‘Yet I must ask if all is swell,

Why are you at this inn?’

‘Can not a married soul go out

Alone from time to time?

As I infer, to briefly be

Apart is not a crime.

 

Though, Captain, ay, I have a cause

For sojourning in here,

And hearing all the darkened walls

Resound with sin and fear.

 

My darling bird had said to me

“My goodness, kitty cat!

Go run and get some exercise,

Thou hast grown rather fat.”

 

Thus ev’ry morning would I run

To start becoming thin.

And after half-an-hour’s time

Would find the Ballad Inn.

 

Too weary to return just yet

I jump upon the sill,

And sleep until my strength returns

Most tranquilly and still.

 

Then rouse and run back home again

Beneath the gleaming sun

Of afternoon towards my bird

To tell her of my run.

 

Yet I think not my blue bird wished

For me to lose some weight.

I think she wanted me away

So she could incubate.

 

For, truly, she had lain four eggs-"

Each one half blue half peach-"

And yesterday hatched cats and birds,

I counted two of each.’

 

‘What an honour you have to now be a dad,

I bet this event has rendered you glad.’

‘We congratulate you, but pardon us, cat,

We have nothing to give to the kids you begat.’

‘But we must give them something! Come on! Feel around

In all of your pockets and look on the ground!’

‘O leave it alone, our wishes are fine,

For a wish of good health on its own is divine.’

 

‘Indeed, congratulations, cat,

Here! Take this crested charm.

I honestly assure you that

’Twill guard the young from harm.’

 

‘’Tis quite alright. No need for gifts,

Although ’tis custom here

To give to children newly born.

Yet, pray, just give me cheer.’

 

‘Then cheer is what thou shalt receive

With two brief toasts, thus let’s not stall.

For, gentlemen, I do believe

That now acquainted are we all!

 

Orion, may thy young grow strong

To do what each of them intend.

Then, friends, to life and living long

To make this friendship never end.’

 

The cry of ‘Cheers!’ went through our ears,

And rendered us care-free.

We drained our mugs with noisy glugs,

Then slammed them down with glee.

 

Our laughter soared and proudly roared

Again around the inn.

But fear’s sharp cold once more took hold

When someone spoke within: