Part 35 (1/2)

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS

Speak gently to the herring and kindly to the calf, Be blithesome with the bunny, at barnacles don't laugh!

Give nuts unto the monkey, and buns unto the bear, Ne'er hint at currant jelly if you chance to see a hare!

Oh, little girls, pray hide your combs when tortoises draw nigh, And never in the hearing of a pigeon whisper Pie!

But give the stranded jelly-fish a shove into the sea,-- Be always kind to animals wherever you may be!

Oh, make not game of sparrows, nor faces at the ram, And ne'er allude to mint sauce when calling on a lamb.

Don't beard the thoughtful oyster, don't dare the cod to crimp, Don't cheat the pike, or ever try to pot the playful shrimp.

Tread lightly on the turning worm, don't bruise the b.u.t.terfly, Don't ridicule the wry-neck, nor sneer at salmon-fry; Oh, ne'er delight to make dogs fight, nor bantams disagree,-- Be always kind to animals wherever you may be!

Be lenient with lobsters, and ever kind to crabs, And be not disrespectful to cuttle-fish or dabs; Chase not the Cochin-China, chaff not the ox obese, And babble not of feather-beds in company with geese.

Be tender with the tadpole, and let the limpet thrive, Be merciful to mussels, don't skin your eels alive; When talking to a turtle don't mention calipee-- Be always kind to animals wherever you may be.

_J. Ashby-Sterry_.

SAGE COUNSEL

The lion is the beast to fight, He leaps along the plain, And if you run with all your might, He runs with all his mane.

I'm glad I'm not a Hottentot, But if I were, with outward cal-lum I'd either faint upon the spot Or hie me up a leafy pal-lum.

The chamois is the beast to hunt; He's fleeter than the wind, And when the chamois is in front, The hunter is behind.

The Tyrolese make famous cheese And hunt the chamois o'er the chaz-zums; I'd choose the former if you please, For precipices give me spaz-zums.

The polar bear will make a rug Almost as white as snow; But if he gets you in his hug, He rarely lets you go.

And Polar ice looks very nice, With all the colors of a pris-sum; But, if you'll follow my advice, Stay home and learn your catechissum.

_A.T. Quiller-Couch_.

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.