(La Fontaine, Fables, III., 17)
Edward Marsh
Into a storeroom once Miss Weasel came,
Through a small hole squeezing her lank lean frame:
From illness she had grown so slender.
Once in, she made complete surrender
To her capacious appetite,
Nibbling and guzzling day and night.
The life she led, Lord only knew,
Or the amount of bacon she got through—