Alf and the Parrot.
The old Poll Parrot was in a rage;
He bounced and spluttered about in his cage.
The reason he felt so much displeased
Was because young Alf had worried and teased.
He pecked, and bobbed, and knocked with his beak,
Too much enraged to be able to speak.
To tease him was a scandalous shame:
Alf was a bad boy, and much to blame.
"I tell you, young Alf," at last Poll said,
"If you don't leave off, I'll snap off your head.
"You think you're allowed to tease a bird.
Now, that idea's extremely absurd.
"One thing, young Alf, is certain and sure—
Your worry and bother no more I'll endure.
"Another thing, Alf, is also clear:
I mean to walk out, and lock you in here."
Poor Alfy screamed and bawled with rage
When Poll marched out, and put him in the cage!
Cried Alf, "I think this horrible bird
Is going to be as good as his word."
Laughed old Poll, as he perched on a chair,
"You thought to punish you I'd never dare.
"You may bawl or howl, or scream and rage—
I'm going to lock the door of the cage!"
Alfy did cry out—Oh! didn't he shout,
When he found the Parrot would not let him out!
Said Poll, "My dear boy, it's now our turn;
The world's upside down, as you have to learn."
So Alf was forced to make up his mind
In the cage of the Parrot to be confined.
The Clever Hare.
"To be hunted, and trapped, and watched for by night, and—and—I don't know what, is most abominable!" said the Hare.
Some dogs had frightened him, and he had run—run like a hare, in fact, and then sat down upon his form to think. The dogs had not stood upon ceremony, so he didn't choose to stand upon forms, but sat down comfortably.
He twitched his ears, and scratched his wig, and thought.
"And I won't put up with it—there," said he, aloud. "It's only cowardice putting up with things. I'll get some fellows to help me, and we'll hunt the dogs."