Once on a time he heard afar
Two dogs contend with noisy jar;
Away he scoured to lay about him,
Resolved no fray should be without him.
Forth from the yard—which was a tanner's—
The master rushed to teach him manners;
And with the cudgel tanned his hide,
And bullied him with words beside.
Forth from another yard—a butcher's—
The master rushed—his name was Mutchers—
"Why, who the deuce are you?" he cried:
"Why do you interfere? Bankside
Has, at the Bull-pit, seen and known,
And Hockleyhole and Marry-bone,
That when we go to work we mean it—
Why should you come and intervene it?"
So said, they dragged the dogs asunder,
And kicks and clubs fell down like thunder.
And parted now, and freed from danger,
The curs beheld the meddling stranger,
And where their masters whacked they hurried,
And master mastiff he was "worried."
FABLE XXXV.
Barleymow and Dunghill.
How many saucy beaux we meet
'Twixt Westminster and Aldgate-street!
Rascals—the mushrooms of a day,
Who sprung and shared the South Sea prey,
Nor in their zenith condescend
To own or know the humble friend.
A careful farmer took his way
Across his yard at break of day:
He leant a moment o'er the rail,
To hear the music of the flail;
In his quick eye he viewed his stock,—
The geese, the hogs, the fleecy flock.
A barleymow there, fat as mutton,
Then held her master by the button:
"Master, my heart and soul are wrung—till
They can't abide that dirty dunghill:
Master, you know I make your beer—
You boast of me at Christmas cheer;
Then why insult me and disgrace me,
And next to that vile dunghill place me?
By Jove! it gives my nose offence:
Command the hinds to cart it hence."
"You stupid Barleymow," said Dunghill;
"You talk about your heart and wrung-ill:
Where would you be, I'd like to know,
Had I not fed and made you grow?
You of October brew brag—pshaw!
You would have been a husk of straw.
And now, instead of gratitude,
You rail in this ungrateful mood."
FABLE XXXVI.
Pythagoras and Countryman.
Pythagoras, at daybreak drawn
To meditate on dewy lawn,
To breathe the fragrance of the morning,
And, like philosophers, all scorning
To think or care where he was bound,
Fell on a farm. A hammer's sound
Arrested then his thoughts and ear: