THE MOUSE AND THE ELEPHANT.
A pert young Mouse, but just arrived
From Athens, where some time he'd lived;
And daily to the portico,
To pick up learning, used to go;
Vain of the wisdom he had stored,
And of the books he had devoured;
Puffed up with pride and self-conceit,
And proud to show his little wit,
Thus to an Elephant, one day,
He took it in his head to say:—
"Nay, not so pompous in your gait,
Because Dame Nature made you great;
I tell you, sir, your mighty size
Is of no value in my eyes;—
Your magnitude, I have a notion,
Is quite unfit for locomotion;
When journeying far, you often prove
How sluggishly your feet can move.
Now, look at me: I'm made to fly;
Behold, with what rapidity
I skip about from place to place,
And still unwearied with the race;
But you—how lazily you creep,
And stop to breathe at every step!
Whenever I your bulk survey,
I pity—" What he meant to say,
Or with what kind of peroration
He'd have concluded his oration,
I cannot tell; for, all at once,
There pounced upon the learned dunce
An ambushed Cat; who, very soon,
Experimentally made known,
That between Mice and Elephants
There is a mighty difference.
MORAL.
When fools pretend to wit and sense,
And wish to shine at your expense,
Defy them to the proof, and you
Will make them their own folly show.