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The Devil gave a sudden leap
and struck Miss Squill all of a heap.
He Swooped her up from off the ground
And twirled her madly round and round.
That night she saw when she undressed
His mark was burned upon her breast.
Next day flew in her open door
A creature named Beelphazoar.
It brought a recipe for fudge
Of pounded pencil-stubs and sludge.
Also a book called Ninety-two
Entirely Evil Things To Do.
She cindered toast and rotted silk
Corroded tin and curdled milk.
Her laugh made beetles swoon: her frown
Made geese and cows turn upside down.
She did her neighbours’ forms in wax
And stuck them full of pins and tacks.
They then expired with frightful pains
Inside their bowels, lungs and brains.
She got from somewhere stones with eyes
And plants that gave out screams and sighs.
But then the demon, much too soon
Returned one Sunday afternoon.
He seized her hair and with his hoof
He kicked a way out through the roof.
The end had come, and this was it:
He dropped her in the Flaming Pit.