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It was a hungry p.u.s.s.y cat, upon Thanksgiving morn, And she watched a thankful little mouse, that ate an ear of corn.
"If I ate that thankful little mouse, how thankful he should be, When he has made a meal himself, to make a meal for me!
"Then with his thanks for having fed, and his thanks for feeding me, With all _his_ thankfulness inside, how thankful I shall be!"
Thus mused the hungry p.u.s.s.y cat, upon Thanksgiving Day; But the little mouse had overheard and declined (with thanks) to stay.
Oliver Herford.
_The Magpie's Nest_
A Fable
When the Arts in their infancy were, In a fable of old 'tis express'd A wise magpie constructed that rare Little house for young birds, call'd a nest.
This was talk'd of the whole country round; You might hear it on every bough sung, "Now no longer upon the rough ground Will fond mothers brood over their young:
"For the magpie with exquisite skill Has invented a moss-cover'd cell Within which a whole family will In the utmost security dwell."
To her mate did each female bird say, "Let us fly to the magpie, my dear; If she will but teach us the way, A nest we will build us up here.
"It's a thing that's close arch'd overhead, With a hole made to creep out and in; We, my bird, might make just a bed If we only knew how to begin."
To the magpie soon every bird went And in modest terms made their request, That she would be pleased to consent To teach them to build up a nest.
She replied, "I will show you the way, So observe everything that I do: First two sticks 'cross each other I lay--"
"To be sure," said the crow, "why I knew
"It must be begun with two sticks, And I thought that they crossed should be."
Said the pie, "Then some straw and moss mix In the way you now see done by me."
"O yes, certainly," said the jackdaw, "That must follow, of course, I have thought; Though I never before building saw, I guess'd that, without being taught."
"More moss, straw, and feathers, I place In this manner," continued the pie.
"Yes, no doubt, madam, that is the case; Though no builder myself, so thought I."
Whatever she taught them beside, In his turn every bird of them said, Though the nest-making art he ne'er tried He had just such a thought in his head.
Still the pie went on showing her art, Till a nest she had built up half-way; She no more of her skill would impart, But in her anger went fluttering away.
And this speech in their hearing she made, As she perch'd o'er their heads on a tree: "If ye all were well skill'd in my trade, Pray, why came ye to learn it of me?"
When a scholar is willing to learn, He with silent submission should hear; Too late they their folly discern, The effect to this day does appear.
For whenever a pie's nest you see, Her charming warm canopy view, All birds' nests but hers seem to be A magpie's nest just cut in two.
Charles and Mary Lamb.
_The Owl and the p.u.s.s.y-Cat_
The Owl and the p.u.s.s.y-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat; They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the moon above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely p.u.s.s.y! O p.u.s.s.y, my love, What a beautiful p.u.s.s.y you are,-- You are, What a beautiful p.u.s.s.y you are!"
p.u.s.s.y said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
How wonderful sweet you sing!
O let us be married,--too long we have tarried,-- But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day To the land where the Bong tree grows And there in a wood, a piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose,-- His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one s.h.i.+lling Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day By the turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined upon mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon, And hand in hand on the edge of the sand They danced by the light of the moon,-- The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.
Edward Lear.
_A Lobster Quadrille_
"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail, "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the s.h.i.+ngle--will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!"
But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance-- Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance, Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied, "There is another sh.o.r.e, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France-- Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"
Lewis Carroll.