"Ah," said the former, arrogantly addressing the latter, "times are indeed a good deal altered since you were a cockerel, and all for the better, thank goodness! Time was, and not so very long ago either, when I was expected to do nothing save lay eggs and breed chickens: now, however, my mistress must know better than to expect such degrading offices of me, for I will neither lay the one nor breed the other."
The old cock was about to offer some remarks in ridicule of these sentiments, when the housewife came into the yard, and, snatching up the New Hen, wrung her neck, remarking to herself as she did so, that a fowl that could neither lay eggs nor rear chickens, had obviously no place in the economy of nature.
New Reading.—"A bull in a china shop" may be Latin-Americanised with a considerable amount of truth as "The 'bos' of the show."
THE MENU À LA MODE.
Come, Damon, since again we've met
We'll feast right royally to-night,
The groaning table shall be set
With every seasonable delight!
The luscious bivalve ... I forgot,
The oyster is an arch-deceiver,
And makes its eater's certain lot
A bad attack of typhoid fever.
With soup then, be it thick or clear,
The banquet fitly may commence—
Alas, on second thoughts, I fear
With soup as well we must dispense.
The doctors urge that, in effect.
Soup simply kills the thoughtless glutton,
It's full of germs. I recollect
They say the same of beef and mutton.
Yes, each variety of meat,
As you remark, is much the same,
And we're forbidden now to eat
Fish, oysters, poultry, joint or game.
But though a Nemesis each brings,
The punishment, the doctors tell, is
As nothing to the awful things
Awaiting all who toy with jellies.
"Cheese—that is not condemned with these?"
Yet ample evidence we find
To make us, Damon, look on cheese
As simply poison to mankind;
While those who may desire to pass
Immediately o'er Charon's ferry,
Have but to take a daily glass
Of claret, hock, champagne or sherry.