"Advised by you!" the lady cried, And tossed her head with proper pride; "And what do you know, now I pray, Of the fashion of the present day, You creature ignorant and low?

However, if you want to know, This is the reason why I do it: I lay my egg, and then review it!"

_Matthew Claudius._

OF BAITING THE LION

Remembering his taste for blood You'd better bait him with a cow; Persuade the brute to chew the cud Her tail suspended from a bough; It thrills the lion through and through To hear the milky creature moo.

Having arranged this simple ruse, Yourself you climb a neighboring tree; See to it that the spot you choose Commands the coming tragedy; Take up a smallish Maxim gun, A search-light, whisky, and a bun.

It's safer, too, to have your bike Standing immediately below, In case your piece should fail to strike, Or deal an ineffective blow; The Lion moves with perfect grace, But cannot go the scorcher's pace.

Keep open ear for subtle signs; Thus, when the cow profusely moans, That means to say, the Lion dines.

The crunching sound, of course, is bones; Silence resumes her ancient reign-- This shows the cow is out of pain.

But when a fat and torpid hum Escapes the eater's unctuous nose, Turn up the light and let it come Full on his innocent repose; Then pour your shot between his eyes, And go on pouring till he dies.

Play, even so, discretion's part; Descend with stealth; bring on your gun; Then lay your hand above his heart To see if he is really done; Don't skin him till you know he's dead Or you may perish in his stead!

Years hence, at home, when talk is tall, You'll set the gun-room wide agape, Describing how with just a small Pea-rifle, going after ape You met a Lion unaware, And felled him flying through the air.

_Owen Seaman._

THE FLAMINGO

Inspired by reading a chorus of spirits in a German play

|First Voice| Oh! tell me have you ever seen a red, long-leg'd Flamingo?

Oh! tell me have you ever yet seen him the water in go?

|Second voice| Oh! yes at Bowling-Green I've seen a red long-leg'd Flamingo, Oh! yes at Bowling-Green I've there seen him the water in go.

|First Voice| Oh! tell me did you ever see a bird so funny stand-o When forth he from the water comes and gets upon the land-o?

|Second Voice| No! in my life I ne'er did see a bird so funny stand-o When forth he from the water comes and gets upon the land-o.

|First Voice| He has a leg some three feet long, or near it, so they say, Sir.

Stiff upon one alone he stands, t'other he stows away, Sir.

|Second Voice| And what an ugly head he's got! I wonder that he'd wear it.

But rather _more_ I wonder that his long, thin neck can bear it.

|First voice| And think, this length of neck and legs (no doubt they have their uses) Are members of a little frame, much smaller than a goose's!

|Both| Oh! isn't he a curious bird, that red, long-leg'd Flamingo?

A water bird, a gawky bird, a sing'lar bird, by jingo!

_Lewis g.a.y.l.o.r.d Clark._

WHY DOTH A p.u.s.s.y CAT?

Why doth a p.u.s.s.y cat prefer, When dozing, drowsy, on the sill, To purr and purr and purr and purr Instead of merely keeping still?

With nodding head and folded paws, She keeps it up without a cause.

Why doth she flaunt her lofty tail In such a stiff right-angled pose?

If lax and limp she let it trail 'Twould seem more restful, Goodness knows!

When strolling 'neath the chairs or bed, She lets it b.u.mp above her head.

Why doth she suddenly refrain From anything she's busied in And start to wash, with might and main, Most any place upon her skin?

Why doth she pick that special spot, Not seeing if it's soiled or not?

Why doth she never seem to care To come directly when you call, But makes approach from here and there, Or sidles half around the wall?

Though doors are opened at her mew, You often have to push her through.

Why doth she this? Why doth she that?

I seek for cause--I yearn for clews; The subject of the p.u.s.s.y cat Doth endlessly inspire the mews.

Why doth a p.u.s.s.y cat? Ah, me, I haven't got the least idee.

_Burges Johnson._

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright-- And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sun Had got no business to be there After the day was done-- "It's very rude of him," she said, "To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky: No birds were flying overhead-- There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand; They wept like anything to see Such quant.i.ties of sand: "If this were only cleared away,"

They said, "it would be grand!"