His paws too big—their fluttering bodies small

Escaped unscathed above the City Hall.

They learned new dances, scattering birdy laughter,

And filled again their throats with honey-dew.

A Maltese kitten killed them, two days after.

But they had had their fill. It was enough:—

Had quarreled, made up, on many a lilac swayed,

Darted through sunny thunder-clouds and rainbows,

High above that tiger on parade.

THE FEVER CALLED WAR