Chapter 34

"Please, Mr. Butcher, give me some meat. I want to give the Baker meat. The Baker will give me some bread; I will give the Farmer bread. The Farmer will give me some hay; I will give the Cow hay, the Cow will give me some milk; I will give Pussy milk; and Pussy will give me my own tail again." "So I will, Mousey, if you will eat up the crumbs that have fallen at my breakfast," said the Butcher. "Oh, that I will," said the Mouse, and she soon cleared the floor of every crumb.

Then the Butcher gave the Mouse some meat, and the Mouse gave the Baker the meat, and the Baker gave the Mouse some bread, and the Mouse gave the Farmer the bread, and the Farmer gave the Mouse some hay, and the Mouse gave the Cow the hay, and the Cow gave the Mouse some milk, and the Mouse gave Pussy the milk, and then Pussy gave poor little Mousey her own tail again.

So she frisked and jumped, and away she ran And cried out to Pussy, "Catch me if you can!"

Mouse Gruel

There was an Old Person of Ewell, Who chiefly subsisted on gruel, But to make it taste nice, he inserted some mice, Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.

Wise Mice

Some little mice sat in a barn to spin, Pussy came by and she popped her head in. "Shall I come in and cut your threads off?" "Oh, no, kind sir, you will bite our heads off!"

Mouse Ran up the Clock

Hickory, diccory dock, The mouse ran up the clock, The clock struck one, the mouse ran down, Hickory, diccory, dock.

A Frog he would a-Wooing Go

A Frog he would a-wooing go, Whether his mother would have it or no; So off he set with his nice new hat, And on the road he met a rat.

"Pray, Mr. Rat, will you go with me, Kind Mrs. Mousey for to see!" When they came to the door of Mousey's hall, They gave a loud knock, and gave a loud call.

"Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within?" "Oh, yes, kind sirs, I'm sitting to spin." "Pray, Mrs. Mouse, Will you give us some beer? For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer."

"Pray, Mr. Frog, will you give us a song-- But let it be something that's not very long!" "Indeed, Mrs. Mouse," replied the Frog, "A cold has made me as hoarse as a dog."

"Since you have a cold, Mr. Frog," Mousey said, "I'll sing you a song that I have just made." But while they were all a merry-making, A cat and her kittens came tumbling in.

The cat she seized the rat by the crown; The kittens they pulled the little mouse down. This put Mr. Frog in a terrible fright: He took up his hat, and wished them good-night. But as Froggy was crossing over a brook, A lily-white duck came and gobbled him up, So there was an end of one, two, and three. The Rat, the Mouse, and the little Frog-ee.

Man that Caught a Mouse

The Little priest of Felton, The little priest of Felton, He killed a mouse within his house, And ne'er a one to help him.

Three Blind Mice

Three blind mice! three blind mice! See how they run! see how they run! They all ran after the farmer's wife, They cut off their tails with a carving knife; Did you ever see such a thing in your life As three blind mice?

The Three Unfortunate Mice

Three little dogs were basking in the cinders; Three little cats were playing in the windows; Three little mice hopped out of a hole, And a piece of cheese they stole; The three little cats jumped down in a trice, And cracked the bones of the three little mice.

The Foolish Mouse

In a crack near the cupboard, with dainties provided, A certain young mouse with her mother resided; So securely they lived in that snug, quiet spot, Any mouse in the land might have envied their lot.

But one day the young mouse, which was given to roam, Having made an excursion some way from her home, On a sudden returned, with such joy in her eyes, That her grey, sedate parent expressed some surprise.

"O mother," said she, "The good folks of this house, I'm convinced, have not any ill-will to a mouse; And those tales can't be true you always are telling, For they've been at such pains to construct us a dwelling.

"The floor is of wood, and the walls are of wires, Exactly the size that one's comfort requires; And I'm sure that we there shall have nothing to fear, If ten cats, with kittens, at once should appear.

"And then they have made such nice holes in the wall, One could slip in and out, with no trouble at all; But forcing one through such rough crannies as these, Always gives one's poor ribs a most terrible squeeze.

"But the best of all is, they've provided, as well, A large piece of cheese, of most exquisite smell; 'T was so nice, I had put in my head to go through, When I thought it my duty to come and fetch you."

"Ah, child," said the mother, "believe, I entreat, Both the cage and the cheese are a terrible cheat; Do not think all that trouble they took for our good, They would catch us and kill us there if they could.

"Thus they've caught and killed scores, and I never could learn, That a mouse who once entered did ever return." Let young people mind what the old people say, And, when danger is near them keep out of the way.

[Page 186--Mixed Animal Land]

The Fox and the Cat

The fox and the cat as they travelled one day, With moral discourses cut shorter on the way: "'Tis great," says the fox, "to make justice our guide!" "How godlike is mercy!" Grimalkin replied.

Whilst thus they proceeded, a wolf from the wood, Impatient of hunger, and thirsting for blood, Rushed forth--as he saw the dull shepherd asleep-- And seized for his supper an innocent sheep.

"In vain, wretched victim, for mercy you bleat; When mutton's at hand," says the wolf, "I must eat." Grimalkin's astonished--the fox stood aghast, To see the fell beast at his bloody repast.

"What a wretch!" says the cat--"'tis the vilest of brutes; Does he feed upon flesh when there's herbage and roots?" Cries the fox, "While our oaks give us acorns so good, What a tyrant is this to spill innocent blood!"

Well, onward they marched, and they moralised still. Till they came where some poultry picked chaff by a mill. Sly Reynard surveyed the them with gluttonous eyes, And made, spite of morals, a pullet his prize! A mouse, too, that chanced from her covert to stray, The greedy Grimalkin secured as her prey!

A spider that sat in her web on the wall, Perceived the poor victims, and pitied their fall; She cried, "Of such murders how guiltless am I!" So ran to regale on a new-taken fly!

Sour Grapes

A fox was trotting one day, And just above his head He spied a vine of luscious grapes, Rich, ripe, and purple-red.

Eager he tried to snatch the fruit, But, ah! it was too high; Poor Reynard had to give it up, And, heaving a deep sigh,

He curl'd his nose and said, "Dear me! I would not waste an hour Upon such mean and common fruit-- I'm sure those grapes are sour!"

'Tis thus we often wish thro' life, When seeking wealth and pow'r And when we fall, say, like the fox, We're "sure the grapes are sour!"

The Fox and the Mask

A fox walked round a toyman's shop (How he came there, pray do not ask), But soon he made a sudden stop, To look and wonder at a mask.

The mask was beautiful and fair, A perfect mask as e'er was made; At which a lady meant to wear At the ensuing masquerade.

He turned it round with much surprise, To find it prove so light and thin; "How strange!" astonished Reynard cries, "Here's mouth and nose, and eyes and chin.

"And cheeks and lips, extremely pretty; And yet, one thing there still remains To make it perfect--what a pity, So fine a head should have no brains!"

Thus, to some boy or maiden pretty; Who to get learning takes no pains, May we exclaim, "Ah! what a pity, So fine a head should have no brains!"

The Fox and Crow

In a dairy a crow, Having ventured to go, Some food for her young ones to seek, Flew up in the trees With a fine piece of cheese, Which she joyfuly held in her beak.

A fox who lived by, To the tree saw her fly, And to share in the prize he made a vow, For, having just dined, He for cheese felt inclined, So he went and sat under the bough.

She was cunning he knew, But so was he, too, And with flattery adapted his plan; For he knew if she'd speak, It must fall from his beak, So, bowing politely, began:

"'Tis a very fine day," (Not a word did she say), "The wind, I believe, ma'am, is south: A fine harvest for peas;" He then looked at the cheese, But the crow did not open her mouth.

Sly Reynard, not tired, He plumage admired: "How charming! how brilliant its hue! The voice must be fine Of a bird so divine, Ah, let me hear it, pray do.

Believe me I long To hear a sweet song;" The silly crow foolishly tries; She scarce gave one squall, When the cheese she let fall, And the fox ran away with the prize.

Jane Taylor

The Blind Men and the Elephant (A Hindoo Fable)

It was six men of Indostan To learning much inclined, Who went to see an elephant, (Though all of them were blind), That each by observation Might satisfy his mind.

The FIRST approached the Elephant, And happening to fall Against his broad and sturdy side, At once began to bawl: "God bless me!--but the Elephant Is very like a wall!"

The SECOND feeling of the tusk, Cried: "Ho! what have we here So very round and smooth and sharp! To me 'tis mighty clear This wonder of an Elephant Is very like a spear!"

The THIRD approached the animal, And happening to take The squirming trunk within his hands, This boldly up and spake: "I see," quoth he, "The Elephant Is very like a snake!"

The FOURTH reached out his eager hand, And felt about the knee, "What most this wondrous beast is like Is mighty plain," quoth he; "'Tis clear enough the Elephant Is very like a tree!"

The FIFTH, who chanced to touch the ear, Said: "E'n the blindest man Can tell what this resembles most, Deny the fact who can, This marvel of an Elephant Is very like a fan."

The SIXTH no sooner had begun About the beast to grope, Than, seizing on the swinging tail That fell within his scope, "I see," quoth he, "the Elephant Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan Disputed loud and long, Each in his own opinion Exceeding stiff and strong, Though each was partly in the right, And all were in the wrong.

[Page 187--Mixed Animal Land]

An Address to a Mouse

Sly little, cowering, timorous beastie! Oh what a panic's in thy breastie! You need not start away so hasty, With bickering speed: I should be loth to run and chase thee I should indeed!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion Hath broken Nature's social union, And justifies that ill opinion Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, And fellow mortal.

Sometimes, I doubt not, thou dost thieve; What then? poor beastie, thou must live; A little barley in the shieve Is small request; And all thou tak'st, I do believe, Will ne'er be missed.

R. Burns

Song of the Toad

I am an honest toad, Living here by the road; Beneath a stone I dwell, In a snug little cell.

When the rain patters down, I let it wet my crown; And now and then I sip A drop with my lip.

And now a catch a fly, And now I wink my eye, And now I take a hop, And now and then I stop.

And this is all I do, And yet they sat it's true That the toad's face is sad, And his bite is very bad.

Oh! naughty folks they be Who tell such tales of me! For I'm an honest toad Just living by the road, Hip, hip, hop.

Mosquito Song

In a summer's night I take my flight To where the maidens repose; And while they are slumbering sweet and sound, I bite them on the nose; The warm red blood that tints their cheeks, To me is precious dear, For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite In the season of the year.

When I get my fill, I wipe my bill, And sound my tiny horn; And off I fly to mountain high Ere breaks the golden morn; But at eve I sally forth again To tickle the sleeper's ear; For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite In the season of the year.

On the chamber wall about I crawl, Till landlord goes to bed; Then my bugle I blow, and down I go To light upon his head. Oh, I love to see the fellow slap, And regret to hear him swear; For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite In the season of the year.

The Nightingale and Glow-worm

A Nightingale, that all day long Had cheered the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel--as well he might-- The keen demands of appetite; When looking eagerly around, He spied, far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark; So; stooping down, from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him this, quite eloquent-- "Did you admire my lamp," quoth he, "As much as I your minstrelsy? You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song; For 'twas the self-same power divine Taught you to sing, and me to shine: That you with music, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night." The songster heard his short oration, And, warbling out his approbation, Released him as my story tells, And found a supper somewhere else.

Cowper

The Glow-worm

Beneath this hedge, or near the stream, A worm is known to stray, That shows by night a lucid stream That disappears by day.

Disputes have been, and still prevail, From whence his rays proceed; Some give the honor to his tail, And others to his head;

But this is sure--the hand of might That kindles up the skies, Gives him a modicum of light, Proportion'd to his size.

Perhaps indulgent Nature meant, By such a lamp bestow'd, To bid the traveller as he went, Be careful where he trod.

Cowper

Happiness of the Grasshopper

Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared with thee! Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning's gentle wine; Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill. All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants belong to thee: All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with easy juice; The country hinds with gladness hear, Prophet of the ripened year!

Cowley

The Whale

Warm and buoyant, in his oily mail, Gambols on seas of ice th' unwieldily whale; Wide waving fins round boating islands urge His bulk gigantic through the troubled surge; With hideous yawn, the flying shoals he seeks, Or clasps with fringe of horn his massy cheeks; Lifts o'er the tossing wave his nostril bare, And spouts the watery columns into air; The silvery arches catch the setting beams, And transient rainbows tremble o'er the streams.

Darwin

The wasp and the Bee

A wasp met a bee that was just buzzing by, And he said "Little Cousin, can you tell me why You are loved so much better by people than I.

"My back shines as bright, and as yellow as gold And my shape is most elegant too to behold, And yet nobody likes me for that, I am told," Bz.

"Ah! Cousin," the bee said, "'tis all very true, But if I were half as much mischief to do, Then I'm sure they would love me no better than you. Bz.

"You have a fine shape and a delicate wing, And they say you are handsome; but then there's one thing They never can put up with; and that is your sting. Bz.

"My coat is quite homely and plain, as you see, But yet no one is angry or scolding at me, Just because I'm a harmless and busy bee." Bz.

From this little story let people beware, For if, like the cross wasp, ill-natured they are, They will never be loved, though they're ever so fair.

My Pets

I bring my little doggies milk; I bring my rabbits hay; I feed and tend, and love them well-- Such helpless things are they! See! now in soft and cozy bed They roll about and play; They've milk and bones, and all they want-- Such happy pets are they!

[Page 188--Squirrel Land]

The Squirrel

I'm a merry, merry squirrel, All day I leap and whirl Through my home in the old beech-tree If you chase me I will run In the shade and in the sun; But you never, never can catch me For round a bough I'll creep, Playing hide and seek so sly; Or through the leaves bo-peep, With my little shining eye.

Up and down I run and frisk, With my bushy tail to whisk All who mope in the old beech-trees. How droll to see the owl As I make him wink and growl, While his sleepy, sleepy head I tease! And I waken up the bat, Who flies off with a scream, For he thinks that I'm the cat Pouncing on him, in his dream.

Through all the summer long I never want a song From birds in the old beech-trees I have singers all the night, And with the morning bright Come my busy, humming, fat, brown bees. When I've nothing else to do With the nursing birds I sit; And we laugh at the cuckoo A-coo-cooing to her tit!

When winter comes with snow An its cruel tempests blow All my leaves from the old beech-trees, Then beside the wren and mouse I furnish up a house, Where, like a prince, I live at ease. What care I for hail or sleet, With my cozy cap and coat; And my tail about my feet, Or wrapped about my throat?

Norman Macleod

Ducks and Ducklings

One little white duck, One little grey, Six little black ducks Running out to play; One white lady-duck, Motherly and trim, Eight little baby ducks Bound for a swim.

One little white duck Running from the water, One very fat duck-- Pretty little daughter-- One little grey duck Holding up its wings. One little bobbing duck Making water rings.

One little black duck Standing on a stone, One little grey duck Swimming all alone, One little grey duck Holding down it's head. One sleepy little duck, It has gone to bed!

One little what duck Running to its mother, Look among the water-reeds, May be there's another. One hungry little duck Going out to dine, Two dainty little ducks, Snowy-white and fine.

Merry little brown eyes O'er the picture linger, Point all the ducks out, Chubby little finger; Make the picture musical, Merry little shout; Now where's that other duck? What is he about?

I thank that other duck Is the nicest duck of all, He hasn't any feathers, And his mouth is sweet and small; He runs with a light step And jumps upon my knee, And though he cannot swim He is very dear to me.

One white lady-duck, Motherly and trim, Eight little baby ducks Bound for a swim; One sleepy little duck Taking quite a nap, One precious little duck Here on mother's lap.

A. L.

The Squirrel

The pretty red squirrel Lives up in a tree, A little blithe creature As ever can be; He dwells in the boughs Where the stock-dove broods, Far in the shades Of the green summer woods;

His food is the young Juicy cones of the pine, And the milky beech-nut Is his bread and his wine. In the joy of his nature He frisks with a bound To the topmost twigs, And then down to the ground.

Then up again like A winged thing, And from tree to tree With a vaulting spring; Then he sits up aloft, And looks ragged and queer, As if he would say: "Ay, follow me here!"

And then he grows pettish, And stamps his foot; And then with a chatter, He cracks his nut; And thus he lives All the long summer through, Without either a care Or a thought of rue.

The Mountain and the Squirrel

The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter "Little Prig;" Bun replied, "You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken together To make up a year, And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I. And not half so spry; I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track. Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack an nut!"

R. W. Emerson

[Page 189--Wonderful Bird Nests]

Wonderful Birds' Nests

[Page 190--Cole's Poems On Books]

What Books Do For Mankind

1.

Books should be found in every house, To form and feed the mind; They are the best of luxuries To happify mankind.

2.

For all good books throughout the world Are man's most precious treasure; They make him wise, and bring him His best, his choicest pleasure.

3.

Books make his time pass happily, Relieve his weary hours; Amuse, compose, instruct his mind; Enlarge his mental powers.

4.

Books teach the boys and girls of earth In quite ten million schools; Books make the difference between Earth's learned and its fools.

5.

Books teach earth's teeming artisans The proper way to take, To find, to plan, to build, to mix, And every product make.

6.

Books teach schoolmasters, clergymen, Of every rank and grade; And doctors, lawyers, judges, too-- Books are their tools of trade.

128.

Books thus, by print, and pictures, bring The whole world into view, And show what all men think about, And everything they do.

129.

Books give to man the history Of each and every land; Books show him human actions past, The bad, the good, the grand.

130.

Books show him human arts and laws Of every time and place; Books show the learnings and the faiths Of all the human race.

131.

Books give the best and greatest thoughts Of all the good and wise; Books treasure human knowledge up, And thus it never dies.

132.

Books show men all that men have done, Have thought, have sung, have said, Books show the deeds and wisdom of The living and the dead.

133.

Books show that mankind's leading faiths, In morals are the same; That in their main essentials They differ but in name.

134.

Books show that virtue, goodness, love, Exist in every land; That some with kindly sympathies Are found on every strand.

135.

Books show the joys, griefs, hopes and fears, Of every race and clan; Books show, by unity of thought, The brotherhood of man.

136.

Books thus will cause the flag of peace Through earth to be unfurled-- Produce "the parliament of man," And federate the world.

137.

Books give the reader vast delight, The bookless never know; Books give him pleasure, day and night, Wherever he may go.

138.

Books show narcotics, toxicants, Of each and every kind; Insidious destroyers all, Of body and of mind.

139.

Books, like strong drink, will drowns man's cares But do not waste his wealth; Books leave him better, drink the worse, In character and health.

140.