The Talking Beasts Part 34

_There's always leakage of deceit Which makes it never safe to cheat, Whoever is a Wolf had better Keep clear of hypocritic fetter._

The Lion and the a.s.s Hunting

The King of animals, with royal grace, Would celebrate his birthday in the chase.

Twas not with bow and arrows, To slay some wretched sparrows; The Lion hunts the wild boar of the wood, The antlered deer and stags, the fat and good.

This time, the King, t' insure success, Took for his aide-de-camp an a.s.s, A creature of stentorian voice, That felt much honoured by the choice.

The Lion hid him in a proper station, And ordered him to bray, for his vocation, a.s.sured that his tempestuous cry The boldest beasts would terrify, And cause them from their lairs to fly.

And, sooth, the horrid noise the creature made Did strike the tenants of the wood with dread; And, as they headlong fled, All fell within the Lion's ambuscade.

"Has not my service glorious Made both of us victorious?"

Cried out the much-elated a.s.s.

"Yes," said the Lion; "bravely bray'd!

Had I not known yourself and race, I should have been myself afraid!"

The Donkey, had he dared, With anger would have flared At this retort, though justly made; For who could suffer boasts to pa.s.s So ill-befitting to an a.s.s?

The Oak and the Reed

The Oak one day address'd the Reed: "To you ungenerous indeed Has nature been, my humble friend, With weakness aye obliged to bend.

The smallest bird that flits in air Is quite too much for you to bear; The slightest wind that wreathes the lake Your ever-trembling head doth shake.

The while, my towering form Dares with the mountain top The solar blaze to stop, And wrestle with the storm.

What seems to you the blast of death, To me is but a zephyr's breath.

Beneath my branches had you grown, Less suffering would your life have known, Unhappily you oftenest show In open air your slender form, Along the marshes wet and low, That fringe the kingdom of the storm.

To you, declare I must, Dame Nature seems unjust."

Then modestly replied the Reed: "Your pity, sir, is kind indeed, But wholly needless for my sake.

The wildest wind that ever blew Is safe to me compared with you.

I bend, indeed, but never break.

Thus far, I own, the hurricane Has beat your st.u.r.dy back in vain; But wait the end." Just at the word, The tempest's hollow voice was heard.

The North sent forth her fiercest child, Dark, jagged, pitiless, and wild.

The Oak, erect, endured the blow; The Reed bow'd gracefully and low.

But, gathering up its strength once more, In greater fury than before, The savage blast o'erthrew, at last, That proud, old, sky-encircled head, Whose feet entwined the empire of the dead!

The Bat and the Two Weasels

A blundering Bat once stuck her head Into a wakeful Weasel's bed; Whereat the mistress of the house, A deadly foe of rats and mice, Was making ready in a trice To eat the stranger as a mouse.

"What! do you dare," she said, "to creep in The very bed I sometimes sleep in, Now, after all the provocation I've suffered from your thievish nation?

It's plain to see you are a mouse, That gnawing pest of every house, Your special aim to do the cheese ill.

Ay, that you are, or I'm no Weasel."

"I beg your pardon," said the Bat; "My kind is very far from that.

What! I a mouse! Who told you such a lie?

Why, ma'am, I am a bird; And, if you doubt my word, Just see the wings with which I fly.

Long live the mice that cleave the sky!"

These reasons had so fair a show, The Weasel let the creature go.

By some strange fancy led, The same wise blunderhead, But two or three days later, Had chosen for her rest Another Weasel's nest, This last, of birds a special hater.

New peril brought this step absurd: Without a moment's thought or puzzle, Dame Weasel, oped her peaked muzzle To eat th' intruder as a bird.

"Hold! do not wrong me," cried the Bat; "I'm truly no such thing as that.

Your eyesight strange conclusions gathers.

What makes a bird, I pray? Its feathers.

I'm cousin of the mice and rats.

Great Jupiter confound the cats!"

The Bat, by such adroit replying, Twice saved herself from dying.

_And many a human stranger Thus turns his coat in danger; And sings, as suits, where'er he goes, "G.o.d save the king!"--or "save his foes!_"

The Dove and the Ant

A Dove came to a brook to drink, When, leaning o'er its crumbling brink, An Ant fell in, and vainly tried, In this, to her, an ocean tide, To reach the land; whereat the Dove, With every living thing in love, Was prompt a spire of gra.s.s to throw her, By which the Ant regained the sh.o.r.e.

A barefoot scamp, both mean and sly, Soon after chanced this Dove to spy; And, being arm'd with bow and arrow, The hungry codger doubted not The bird of Venus, in his pot, Would make a soup before the morrow.

Just as his deadly bow he drew, Our Ant just bit his heel.

Roused by the villain's squeal, The Dove took timely hint, and flew Far from the rascal's coop-- And with her flew his soup.

The c.o.c.k and the Fox

Upon a tree there mounted guard A veteran c.o.c.k, adroit and cunning; When to the roots a Fox up running, Spoke thus, in tones of kind regard: "Our quarrel, brother, 's at an end; Henceforth I hope to live your friend; For peace now reigns Throughout the animal domains.

I bear the news--come down, I pray, And give me the embrace fraternal; And please, my brother, don't delay.

So much the tidings do concern all, That I must spread them far to-day.

Now you and yours can take your walks Without a fear or thought of hawks.

And should you clash with them or others, In us you'll find the best of brothers; For which you may, this joyful night, Your merry bonfires light.

But, first, let's seal the bliss With one fraternal kiss."

The c.o.c.k replied, "Upon my word, A better thing I never heard; And doubly I rejoice To hear it from your voice; There really must be something in it, For yonder come two greyhounds, which I flatter Myself are couriers on this very matter.

They come so fast, they'll be here in a minute.

I'll down, and all of us will seal the blessing With general kissing and caressing."

"Adieu," said Fox; "my errand's pressing; I'll hurry on my way, And we'll rejoice some other day."

So off the fellow scampered, quick and light, To gain the fox-holes of a neighbouring height, Less happy in his stratagem than flight.

The c.o.c.k laugh'd sweetly in his sleeve-- 'Tis doubly sweet deceiver to deceive.

The Wolf, the Goat, and the Kid

As went a Goat of gra.s.s to take her fill, And browse the herbage of a distant hill, She latch'd her door, and bid, With matron care, her Kid; "My daughter, as you live, This portal don't undo To any creature who This watchword does not give: 'Deuce take the Wolf and all his race'!"

The Wolf was pa.s.sing near the place By chance, and heard the words with pleasure, And laid them up as useful treasure; And hardly need we mention, Escaped the Goat's attention.

No sooner did he see The matron off, than he, With hypocritic tone and face, Cried out before the place, "Deuce take the Wolf and all his race!"

Not doubting thus to gain admission.

The Kid, not void of all suspicion, Peer'd through a crack, and cried, "Show me white paw before You ask me to undo the door."

The Wolf could not, if he had died, For wolves have no connection With paws of that complexion.

So, much surprised, our gourmandiser Retired to fast till he was wiser.

_How would the Kid have been undone Had she but trusted to the word The Wolf by chance had overheard!