No. I.-THE AQUARIUM OCTOPUS.
The world is full of pretty things
That everyone admires,
And beauty, even though skin-deep,
Is what the world desires.
I'm handicapped I feel in life,
For very obvious reasons,
And yet my family always think
I'm lovely in all seasons!
My time is principally passed
In caverns under water,
My family are mostly sharks,
Except a mermaid daughter;
She sings her songs and combs her hair
To tempt unwary whalers,
And when we lure them down below
It's bad for those poor sailors.
I cannot say I like the sea,
The bottom, top, or middle.
It's always asking, night and day,
The same confounded riddle:
"Why was I made, except to drown
The surplus population?"
This is the sad sea wave's remark
At every sea-side station.
It makes me think about myself—
Octopus too unsightly—
Which are my arms and which my legs
I never can tell rightly;
I frighten children—old and young—
Without the least intention,
I saved a school from drowning once,
But that I mustn't mention!
I'm now at the Aquarium,
A "side-show" much belauded,
My antics, shown three times a day,
Are very much applauded;
The pay is not extremely large—
A weekly bare subsistence;
I take it meekly, for it breaks
The boredom of existence.