The Two Friends
A Spider and a Centipede went out to take a walk;
The Centipede said frankly, “I will listen while you talk,
But I may appear distracted, or assume a vacant stare,
Because to keep my feet in step requires my constant care.”
Said the Spider: “I appreciate your most peculiar case,
And your feet must be quite handy when you want to run a race;
But though you gain in some ways, in some other ways you lose;
And, of course, my friend, you must be quite extravagant in shoes.”
“Ah! yes. Ah! yes,” a heavy sigh escaped the Centipede;
“And I have other trials, too;—my life is hard indeed!
Why, sometimes when I’m very tired, a long, long time it takes
To ascertain with certainty which foot it is that aches.
“And when I go to dancing-class on Saturdays at three,
I find the First Position very difficult for me.
Though I put my best foot foremost, and good time I try to keep,
To my chagrin, I often find a foot or two asleep.
Athletics I attempted, but, alas! I must admit
That every exercise I tried I put my foot in it.
I think I’ll join a foot-ball team,—as many friends suggest,—
Before I’ve one foot in the grave and gout in all the rest.