"NOBODY LOOKING!"
["We will not evacuate Madagascar ... we will pursue the advantages we have gained ... Madagascar will become a flourishing French Colony. (Cheers.) ... Our freedom of action is complete. There can be no foreign interference."—M. Hanotaux on the French Expedition to Madagascar.]
Lupus, on the prowl, loquitur:—
Oh, those Malagasy muttons! They are homicidal beasts,
Very dangerous, and desperate, and spiteful.
Yet, taken young, they furnish quite the toothsomest of feasts,
And my hunger for a meal is getting frightful.
My "attitude towards them" is—oh! well, the usual one
Of the Wolf toward the Lamb the wide world over;
The "attitude" of the imprisoned Bear toward the Bun,
And I'm free—as free as song's romantic Rover!
Yes, I'm free, though not "afloat." There's a feeling in my throat
That my foes might call omnivorous voracity,
But it is a noble hunger; on nobility I doat;
And black baa-lambs are so given to—pugnacity.
So full of ill-will, too, in all circumstances! Yes,
They turn nasty at the thought of being eaten up!
But omelettes still need eggs, as they ever will, I guess,
And the eggs have to be broken and well beaten up!
You can't tie lambs to treaties, that's the worst of the false things,
Though you supply the treaty and the tether.
They bolt from my Protectorate as though the brutes had wings,
And they will not trust a Wolf as a bell-wether!
It is very, very vexing! In such quiet times as these,
When "the elements of peace" are fairly uppermost,
They ought to be so willing to do anything to please.
(Gn-a-r-r! Do I want "redress," now, or my supper most?)
All the world is doing homage to that peaceful creature, Bruin,
Who is almost as unmilitant as I am;
Yet these Malagasy muttons would the entente simply ruin.
They're as fierce as the ferocious sheep of Siam.
At the lovely "words of concord and of peace" they simply—bleat,
A sound that fills the Dove—and me—with terror!
They think, because he's gentle, that the Wolf they'll kill and eat.
The Wolf must try to show them they're in error.
A "policy of division and of discord" must inspire
The world with horror and with apprehension.
Of "watching o'er my interests and my honour," I shan't tire,
And I think there's little fear of—intervention.
All the other brutes are busy at their several little games,
Inspired by various—peaceful—emulations!
These rivalries—of peace—will not set the world in flames,
Or "compromise" relations between nations.
So I think while no one's looking, I may drop down on these sheep
With moral and magnanimous severity.
Ah! there's a black-faced baa-lamb! On her track I'll slowly creep,
I can go with boldness, though "without temerity."
A peaceful time like this is my time to make a pounce;
The dogs are all asleep, there's no one looking.
Ah! there's nothing like a blend of magnanimity and bounce.
Yum-yum! 'Tis a choice morsel, scarce needs cooking;
She comes this way, amusingly unmindful of her fate.
Aha! my Hova lambkin, I shall have you,
I shall eat you up! There's no one will object, until too late,
There's no one near will trouble take to save you!
[Prowls on.
