Nonsense for old and young

by Eugene Field

Tale V—Venerable Venison.

Here we Have Some Venison. It may Taste a trifle Venerable for it has been hanging Up in the Shed for Several Weeks. But Papa says it is not Fly Blown, and Everything Goes on Thanksgiving Day. Once the Venison was a little Deer and lived in the Mountains. A man Caught it and Hung it up on a Tree and cut its poor little Throat and let it Bleed to Death. What a Bad Man. Perhaps the Deer’s baby deers are crying for their Mamma who will Never come.