A FAMILY MAN AND A ROVER.
A rook and an oyster agreed to dispute
As to which held the record for darting:
The rook said "I'm off like a punt on a chute,"
Said the oyster "I don't think I'm starting:
That is, since I know I'm confoundedly slow,
If the rook on the mark remains steady,
I doubt if I'll wait till the starter says 'go,'
I'll be off when he says 'Are you ready?'"
Then the languishing leopard cried "Run while you can,"
And the cricket remarked "Is it over?"
But the voluble thrush was a family man,
And the bibulous bee was a rover.
A celibate snipe thought they'd better look sharp,
But the oyster said "Who's for the grotto?"
Thus evoking a smile from a casual carp,
Who had "carpe diem" for his motto.
And a hairy old, hoary old ourang-outang
Grunted "Harmony, gents, or you'll bore us";
And a bandy-legged beetle, when asked if he sang,
Said he only obliged in a chorus.
Then, to make matters smooth till the racing began,
A dove, who had landed at Dover,
Cooed "Voluble thrush, you're a family man,
But, oh bibulous bee, you're a rover."
The runners themselves were contending for fun
On a track which was wooded with parquet:
The odds at the start were a million to one,
Which I quote as the state of the market.
"Do you think they will win?" said a truculent shark;
But the whale said, "I never think nuffing."
"What a desperate race!" was the puffin's remark—
He was palpably pained by their puffing;
Yet it cheered the whole clan, while their races they ran,
To know someone lived calmly in clover;
For the voluble thrush was a family man,
Though the bibulous bee was a rover.
Round, round came the rook, who was heartily clapped
He was winning, wings down, in a canter;
The succulent bivalve was collared and lapped,
In spite of his beard and his banter.
But a rifle went off, and a dredger drew nigh;
We shall never know which was the winner,
For the rook's next appearance was made in a pie,
And they served up the oyster at dinner.
Which proves very plainly that life is a span;
We are cattle, and Death is our drover.
Fate waits for the thrush, who's a family man,
And the bibulous bee, who's a rover.
No more this week. I am flying from a country where September fails to provide anything but sunshine. Perhaps in Switzerland there may be snow and a sweet foretaste of winter. At any rate, I am off to find out for myself. My next "Roundabout Reading" will be done in the country of Cantons. I shall study the Referendum face to face!
"In re Diggle v. the Progressives."—Mr. Diggle says, as long as ratepayers support the Progressives, the rates will increase. Ergo, to support the Progressives, and pay for it, is Re-diggle-ous! Quite so.