THE MISCHIEVOUS RAVEN
A FARMER went trotting upon his gray mare—
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
With his daughter behind him so rosy and fair—
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
"Can you direct me to the wise man who lives in yonder village?" asked Puss, Junior, bowing politely to the farmer's pretty daughter.
"Whoa!" cried the farmer to his gray mare.
"Isn't he a lovely cat?" whispered his daughter.
"What did you say?" asked the farmer, looking Puss, Junior, over from head to toe.
"I merely inquired," replied Puss, haughtily, "if you could direct me to the wise man in yonder town?"
"Whoa!" cried the farmer as the old gray mare started off. "Whoa, there! Can't you hear the gentleman cat addressing your master?"
"Whoa, Betsy," coaxed the farmer's pretty daughter.
"Well, Sir Cat," said the farmer, as soon as the old mare became quiet, "we have several men in our town who think they are wise, but some of us farmers don't quite agree with them."
And then, all of a sudden, something dreadful happened.
A raven cried croak! And they all tumbled down—
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
The mare broke her knees, and the farmer his crown—
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
And, oh, dear me, the farmer's pretty daughter dropped the mirror from her vanity bag, and it broke all to smithereens and she felt so unhappy about it that she began to cry. And then:
The mischievous raven flew laughing away—
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
And vowed he would serve them the same the next day,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
"Botheration!" cried the farmer, rubbing the bump on the top of his head. "That raven is angry because I set up a scarecrow in my cornfield."
"Well, father," said his daughter, "our mare can't take us to town. What shall we do?"
"You get up behind Sir Puss and ride to town," he replied. "I'll take the mare home. That's the best way, I guess."