MORAL

O, let this tale dramatic, Anent the whale Norwegian And pressure hydrostatic, Warn you, my young collegian,

That down-compelling forces Increase as you get deeper; The lower down your course is, The upward path's the steeper.

_Henry A. Beers._

THE CAMERONIAN CAT

There was a Cameronian cat Was hunting for a prey, And in the house she catched a mouse Upon the Sabbath-day.

The Whig, being offended At such an act profane, Laid by his book, the cat he took, And bound her in a chain.

"Thou d.a.m.ned, thou cursed creature!

This deed so dark with thee!

Think'st thou to bring to h.e.l.l below My holy wife and me?

"a.s.sure thyself that for the deed Thou blood for blood shalt pay, For killing of the Lord's own mouse Upon the Sabbath-day."

The presbyter laid by the book, And earnestly he prayed That the great sin the cat had done Might not on him be laid.

And straight to execution Poor p.u.s.s.y she was drawn, And high hanged up upon a tree-- The preacher sung a psalm.

And, when the work was ended, They thought the cat near dead; She gave a paw, and then a mew, And stretched out her head.

"Thy name," said he, "shall certainly A beacon still remain, A terror unto evil ones For evermore, Amen."

_Unknown._

THE YOUNG GAZELLE

A MOORE-ISH TALE

In early youth, as you may guess, I revelled in poetic lore, And while my schoolmates studied less, I resolutely studied _Moore_.

Those touching lines from "Lalla Rookh,"-- "Ah, ever thus--" you know them well, Such root within my bosom took, I wished _I_ had a young Gazelle.

Oh, yes! a sweet, a sweet Gazelle, "To charm me with its soft black eye,"

So soft, so liquid, that a spell Seems in that gem-like orb to lie.

Years, childhood pa.s.sed, youth fled away, My vain desire I'd learned to quell, Till came that most auspicious day When _some one gave me a Gazelle_.

With care, and trouble, and expense, 'Twas brought from Afric's northern cape; It seemed of great intelligence, And oh! so beautiful a shape.

Its l.u.s.trous, liquid eye was bent With special lovingness on me; No gift that mortal could present More welcome to my heart could be.

I brought him food with fond caress, Built him a hut, snug, neat, and warm; I called him "Selim," to express The marked _s(e)lim_ness of his form.

The little creature grew so tame, He "learned to know (the neighbors) well;"

And then the ladies, when they came, Oh! how they "nursed that dear Gazelle."

But, woe is me! on earthly ground Some ill with every blessing dwells; And soon to my dismay I found That this applies to young Gazelles.

When free allowed to roam indoors, The mischief that he did was great; The walls, the furniture, the floors, He made in a terrific state.

He nibbled at the table-cloth, And trod the carpet into holes, And in his gambols, nothing loth, Kicked over scuttles full of coals.

To view his image in the gla.s.s, He reared upon his hinder legs; And thus one morn I found, alas!

Two porcelain vases smashed like eggs.

Whatever did his fancy catch By way of food, he would not wait To be invited, but would s.n.a.t.c.h It from one's table, hand, or plate.

He riled the dog, annoyed the cat, And scared the goldfish into fits; He b.u.t.ted through my newest hat, And tore my ma.n.u.script to bits.

'Twas strange, so light his hooflets weighed, His limbs as slender as a hare's, The noise my little Selim made In trotting up and down the stairs.

To tie him up I thought was wise, But loss of freedom gave him pain; I could not stand those pleading eyes, And so I let him go again.

How sweet to see him skip and prance Upon the gravel or the lawn; More light in step than fairies' dance, More graceful than an English fawn.

But then he spoilt the garden so, Trod down the beds, raked up the seeds, And ate the plants--nor did he show The least compunction for his deeds.

He trespa.s.sed on the neighbors' ground, And broke two costly melon frames, With other damages--a pound To pay, resulted from his games.

In short, the mischief was immense That from his gamesome pranks befel, And, truly, in a double sense, He proved a _very_ "dear Gazelle."

At length I sighed--"Ah, ever thus Doth disappointment mock each hope; But 'tis in vain to make a fuss; You'll have to go, my antelope."

The chance I wished for did occur; A lady going to the East Was willing; so I gave to her That little antelopian beast.

I said, "This antler'd desert child In Turkish palaces may roam, But he is much too free and wild To keep in any English home."

Yes, tho' I gave him up with tears, Experience had broke the spell, And if I live a thousand years, I'll never have a young Gazelle.

_Walter Parke._

THE BALLAD OF THE EMEU