“Alackaday!” Exclaimed the man. “I’ve thrown away, And all for naught, a chance immense; I only wish I had some sense!” The Goblin waved his hand--the Dunce To his surprise was wise for once. And being wise, he laughed, and said: “I am a fool--would I were dead!”
“Granted!” the Goblin yell’d “it’s plain You’ll never be so wise again.”
Permit me, madame, to declare That I never will compare Eyes of yours to Starlight cold, Or your locks to Sunlight’s gold, Or your lips, I’d have you know, To the crimson Jacqueminot.
Stuff like that’s all very fine When you get so much a line; Since I don’t, I scorn to tell Flattering lies. I like too well Sun and Stars and Jacqueminot To flatter them, I’d have you know.
It was a tragic little mouse All bent on suicide Because another little mouse Refused to be his bride.
“Alas!” he squeaked, “I shall not wed! My heart and paw she spurns; I’ll hie me to the cat instead, From whence no mouse returns!”
The playful cat met him half way, Said she, “I feel for you, You’re dying for a mouse, you say, I’m dying for one, too!”
Now when Miss Mouse beheld his doom, Struck with remorse, she cried, “In death we’ll meet!--O cat! make room For one more mouse inside.”
The playful cat was charmed; said she, “I shall be, in a sense, Your pussy catafalque!” Ah me! It was her last offence!
Reader, take warning from this tale, And shun the punster’s trick: _Those mice, for fear lest cats might fail, Had eaten arsenic_!
They paused just at the crossing’s brink. Said she, “We must turn back, I think.” She eyes the mud. He sees her shrink, Yet does not falter, But recollects with fatal tact That cloak upon his arm--in fact, Resolves to do the courtly act Of good Sir Walter.
Why is it that she makes no sound, Staring aghast as on the ground He lays the cloak with bow profound? Her utterance chokes her. She stands as petrified, until, Her voice regained, in accents chill She gasps, “_I’ll thank you if you will Pick up my cloak, sir!_”
“You are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate, “But for one of your age and size, I feel it is only my duty to state You _are_ not uncommonly wise.”
“I _am_ aged,” replied Father World, “it is true. And not very wise I agree. Do you think tho’ it’s fair for a scholar like you To abuse an old fossil like me?”