His feet caught in the grating of the cage,
He hung head-downward over the deep shaft:
Yet, after the first wrench of agony
Had wrung one sharp yell from him, he only chaffed
And chattered, as his mates worked feverishly
To saw the clenching bars of iron through.

Ay, but I should know better, at my age,
Than to start in the acrobatic way—
A family man and all! and on good pay …
Though, there was once a tumbler that I knew …
Now, don't you chaps saw through too suddenly,
Or I'll go headlong into the black sump:
And I would tumble, a gey heavy lump …
I never knew my weight till, for my sins,
I've got to bear it, hanging from my shins—
Ay, hanging like an old bat from a rafter,
But I'm not used, like him, to upside-down;
And cannot sleep a wink … What are you after,
You chaps up there, since I, last century,
Tripped, and was caught? But, best go cannily.
And I was telling you about the clown,
The tumbler chap: his name was Micky Mac;
And he and I would often have a crack;
And he … What was I saying? Ay, and so,
He said … he said … Ay, ay, it's black, below,
The sump, it is … as black and deep as hell:
'Twould be a chancy dive, ay! if I fell …
As I was saying … he said to me … you … Ben …
He said … he said … he said to me …
And then
Ben's senses failed him: and when, at last, the bars
Were sawn, and he was rescued, on the ground
He lay unconscious, staring at the stars,
For nigh an hour, ere they could bring him round.