Fables for the Frivolous | Page 3

himself by offering these?Reflections on a pumpkin:?"I would not, if the choice were mine,?Grow things like that upon a vine,?For how imposing it would be?If pumpkins grew upon a tree."
Like other populists, you'll note,?Of views enthusiastic,?He'd learned by heart, and said by rote?A creed iconoclastic;?And in his dim, uncertain sight?Whatever wasn't must be right,?From which it follows he had strong?Convictions that what was, was wrong.
As thus he sat beneath an oak?An acorn fell abruptly?And smote his nose: whereat he spoke?Of acorns most corruptly.?"Great Scott!" he cried. "The Dickens!" too,?And other authors whom he knew,?And having duly mentioned those,?He expeditiously arose.
Then, though with pain he nearly swooned,?He bathed his organ nasal?With arnica, and soothed the wound?With extract of witch hazel;?And surely we may well excuse?The victim if he changed his views:?"If pumpkins fell from trees like that,"?He murmured, "Where would I be at?"
Of course it's wholly clear to you?That when these words he uttered?He proved conclusively he knew?Which side his bread was buttered;?And, if this point you have not missed,?You'll learn to love this populist,?The only one of all his kind?With sense enough to change his mind.
THE MORAL: In the early spring?A pumpkin-tree would be a thing?Most gratifying to us all,?But how about the early fall?
THE UNUSUAL GOOSE
AND
THE IMBECILIC WOODCUTTER
A woodcutter bought him a gander,?Or at least that was what he supposed,?As a matter of fact, 'twas a slander?As a later occurrence disclosed;?For they locked the bird up in the garret?To fatten, the while it grew old,?And it laid there a twenty-two carat?Fine egg of the purest of gold!
There was much unaffected rejoicing?In the home of the woodcutter then,?And his wife, her exuberance voicing,?Proclaimed him most lucky of men.?"'Tis an omen of fortune, this gold egg,"?She said, "and of practical use,?For this fowl doesn't lay any old egg,?She's a highly superior goose."
Twas this creature's habitual custom,?This laying of superfine eggs,?And they made it their practice to dust 'em?And pack them by dozens in kegs:?But the woodcutter's mind being vapid?And his foolishness more than profuse,?In order to get them more rapid?He slaughtered the innocent goose.
He made her a gruel of acid?Which she very obligingly ate,?And at once with a touchingly placid?Demeanor succumbed to her fate.?With affection that passed the platonic?They buried her under the moss,?And her epitaph wasn't ironic?In stating, "We mourn for our loss."
And THE MORAL: It isn't much use,?As the woodcutter found to be true,?To lay for an innocent goose?Just because she is laying for you.
THE RUDE RAT
AND
THE UNOSTENTATIOUS OYSTER
Upon the shore, a mile or more?From traffic and confusion,?An oyster dwelt, because he felt?A longing for seclusion;?Said he: "I love the stillness of?This spot. It's like a cloister."?(These words I quote because, you note,?They rhyme so well with oyster.)
A prying rat, believing that?She needed change of diet,?In search of such disturbed this muchTo?-be-desired quiet.?To say the least, this tactless beast?Was apt to rudely roister:?She tapped his shell, and called him--well,?A name that hurt the oyster.
"I see," she cried, "you're open wide,?And, searching for a reason,?September's here, and so it's clear?That oysters are in season."?She smiled a smile that showed this style?Of badinage rejoiced her,?Advanced a pace with easy grace,?And sniffed the silent oyster.
The latter's pride was sorely tried,?He thought of what he could say,?Reflected what the common lot?Of vulgar molluscs would say;?Then caught his breath, grew pale as death,?And, as his brow turned moister,?Began to close, and nipped her nose!?Superb, dramatic oyster!
We note with joy that oi polloi,?Whom maidens bite the thumb at,?Are apt to try some weak reply?To things they should be dumb at.?THE MORAL, then, for crafty men?Is: When a maid has voiced her?Contemptuous heart, don't think you're smart,?But shut up--like the oyster.
THE URBAN RAT
AND
THE SUBURBAN RAT
A metropolitan rat invited?His country cousin in town to dine:?The country cousin replied, "Delighted."?And signed himself, "Sincerely thine."?The town rat treated the country cousin
To half a dozen
Kinds of wine.
He served him terrapin, kidneys devilled,?And roasted partridge, and candied fruit;?In Little Neck Clams at first they revelled,?And then in Pommery, sec_ and _brut;?The country cousin exclaimed: "Such feeding
Proclaims your breeding
Beyond dispute!"
But just as, another bottle broaching,?They came to chicken en casserole?A ravenous cat was heard approaching,?And, passing his guest a finger-bowl,?The town rat murmured, "The feast is ended."