[p38] Till the busy Dwarf Medlar began to explain
His rooted dislike to the booth-loving train.
He branch’d out in florid descriptions to show
That they all ought to stand on their stumps in a row
In defence of their rights, now that underlings drew
That applause and renown which had long been their due.
Then the Oak raised his head, rather hoary with age,
And shook his broad arms in the air in a rage,
And exhorted them all with a feeling of pride,
To maintain their ground firmly, whate’er might betide.