Remembering his taste for blood
You'd better bait him with a cow;
Persuade the brute to chew the cud
Her tail suspended from a bough;
It thrills the lion through and through
To hear the milky creature moo.
Having arranged this simple ruse,
Yourself you climb a neighboring tree;
See to it that the spot you choose
Commands the coming tragedy;
Take up a smallish Maxim gun,
A search-light, whisky, and a bun.
It's safer, too, to have your bike
Standing immediately below,
In case your piece should fail to strike,
Or deal an ineffective blow;
The Lion moves with perfect grace,
But cannot go the scorcher's pace.
Keep open ear for subtle signs;
Thus, when the cow profusely moans,
That means to say, the Lion dines.
The crunching sound, of course, is bones;
Silence resumes her ancient reign—
This shows the cow is out of pain.

But when a fat and torpid hum
Escapes the eater's unctuous nose,
Turn up the light and let it come
Full on his innocent repose;
Then pour your shot between his eyes,
And go on pouring till he dies.
Play, even so, discretion's part;
Descend with stealth; bring on your gun;
Then lay your hand above his heart
To see if he is really done;
Don't skin him till you know he's dead
Or you may perish in his stead!
Years hence, at home, when talk is tall,
You'll set the gun-room wide agape,
Describing how with just a small
Pea-rifle, going after ape
You met a Lion unaware,
And felled him flying through the air.
Owen Seaman.

THE FLAMINGO

Inspired by reading a chorus of spirits in a German play

FIRST VOICE Oh! tell me have you ever seen a red, long-leg'd Flamingo? Oh! tell me have you ever yet seen him the water in go? SECOND VOICE Oh! yes at Bowling-Green I've seen a red long-leg'd Flamingo, Oh! yes at Bowling-Green I've there seen him the water in go. FIRST VOICE Oh! tell me did you ever see a bird so funny stand-o When forth he from the water comes and gets upon the land-o? SECOND VOICE No! in my life I ne'er did see a bird so funny stand-o When forth he from the water comes and gets upon the land-o. FIRST VOICE He has a leg some three feet long, or near it, so they say, Sir. Stiff upon one alone he stands, t'other he stows away, Sir. SECOND VOICE And what an ugly head he's got! I wonder that he'd wear it. But rather more I wonder that his long, thin neck can bear it. FIRST VOICE And think, this length of neck and legs (no doubt they have their uses) Are members of a little frame, much smaller than a goose's! BOTH Oh! isn't he a curious bird, that red, long-leg'd Flamingo? A water bird, a gawky bird, a sing'lar bird, by jingo! Lewis Gaylord Clark.

WHY DOTH A PUSSY CAT?

Why doth a pussy cat prefer,
When dozing, drowsy, on the sill,
To purr and purr and purr and purr
Instead of merely keeping still?
With nodding head and folded paws,
She keeps it up without a cause.

Why doth she flaunt her lofty tail
In such a stiff right-angled pose?
If lax and limp she let it trail
'Twould seem more restful, Goodness knows!
When strolling 'neath the chairs or bed,
She lets it bump above her head.
Why doth she suddenly refrain
From anything she's busied in
And start to wash, with might and main,
Most any place upon her skin?
Why doth she pick that special spot,
Not seeing if it's soiled or not?
Why doth she never seem to care
To come directly when you call,
But makes approach from here and there,
Or sidles half around the wall?
Though doors are opened at her mew,
You often have to push her through.
Why doth she this? Why doth she that?
I seek for cause—I yearn for clews;
The subject of the pussy cat
Doth endlessly inspire the mews.
Why doth a pussy cat? Ah, me,
I haven't got the least idee. '.
Burges Johnson.

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER