To the door of a small inn, in an outmoded town,
there drew up a smart carriage of no certain renown.
The two steeds were exhausted, and so led to be fed
and he humans too were aching for a meal and a bed

In baked pudding with onions Bogd and Parkhurst took delight
when the landlord boomingly announced the surprise of the night.
They were led to a backyard where the light was quite dim,
but they all saw the cage and the creature within.

Famished and foul, it was some kind of owl.
Right then, the landlord addressed the gathered guests:
All you good people, come gather around!
Be amazed by the sound! Come hear the owl!
Come hear the owl!

When the creature had finished its peculiar song
it was thrown a dead rodent, to applause from the throng.
Then the gathering broke up because the hour was late.
Mr. Bogd was not pleased, no, but upset and irate.

This isn't right! Parkhurst, this is not right!
That owl, kept in a cage, forced to sing for poor wage!
That poor wild creature, shackled, disturbed!
Not a place for a bird! Let's save the owl!
Let's save the owl!

On that night, we can assume, Bogd and Parkhurst left their room.
Like two burglars they tiptoed, to the backyard they did go.
Poor wild creature - set it free! Let it fly and let us flee!
Grab an axe in brilliant rage! Smash the lock and break the cage!
In a tick the owl was out, horses harnessed, guests checked out.
Bird and vandals, with a din, left that godforsaken Inn.

When released, the owl's size increased!
And he took on some human features and he said:

Take this golden feather as proof of my gratitude, my parting gift.
If ever you're in danger, just rub it three times and I'll come to your aid."