“There’s a train at 4.04,” said Miss Jenny; “Four tickets I’ll take. Have you any?” Said the man at the door: “Not four for 4.04, For four for 4.04 is too many.”

A Valuable Gift

Old Father Time, one day In his study, so they say, Was indulging in a surreptitious nap, When from his drowsy dreams He was wakened, as it seems, By a timid but persistent little rap. He yawned and rubbed his eyes In indolent surprise, Then slowly he arose from where he sat; He opened wide his door, And nearly tumbled o’er The figure that stood waiting on the mat. A tiny little dog, With excitement all agog, And angry eyes that seemed to flash and glower. His manner was polite, But he said, “I claim my right! And I’ve called, sir, to demand of you my hour.” “Your what?” the old man said, As he shook his puzzled head; And the pertinacious puppy spoke with force: “Well, sir, they often say, ‘Every dog must have his day,’ So a puppy ought to have an hour, of course!” The old man shook with glee, But he said obligingly, “The dog days are all gone, I grieve to say; But since you’ve come so far, And so mannerly you are, I’ll give you just an hour—to get away.”

The Grandiloquent Goat

A very grandiloquent Goat Sat down to a gay table d’hôte; He ate all the corks, The knives and the forks, Remarking: “On these things I dote.” Then, before his repast he began, While pausing the menu to scan, He said: “Corn, if you please, And tomatoes and pease, I’d like to have served in the can.”

How the Cat was Belled

A fable told by La Fontaine, Two centuries or more ago, Describes some rats who would arraign A cat, their direst foe, Who killed so many rats And caused the deepest woe, This Catiline of cats. The poor rats were at their wits’ end Their homes and families to defend; And as a last resort They took the case to court. It seems they called a caucus wise Of rats of every age and size, And then their dean, With sapient mien, A very Solon of a rat, Said it was best to bell the cat. The quaint old tale goes on to tell How this plan would have worked quite well, But, somehow, flaws Appeared, because No one would hang the bell. Though there the ancient fable ends, Later report the tale extends, No longer is the truth withheld; Developments appear, And so you have it here. For the first time Set down in rhyme Just how that cat was belled. The council, as ’twas getting late, Was just about to separate, When suddenly a rat arose Who said he could a plan propose Which would, he thought, succeed And meet their urgent need. Now as this rat was very small, And had no dignity at all, Although his plan was well advised, We really need not be surprised That all the rats of riper years Expressed the gravest doubts and fears; Till suddenly He said, said he, “If you will leave it all to me, I will avow Three days from now That you shall all be free.” The solemn council then adjourned. Each rat to home and fireside turned; But each shook his wise head And to his neighbor said: “It is a dangerous job, in truth, Though it seems naught to headstrong youth.” Now young Sir Rat we next behold, With manner brave and visage bold, Go marching down To London town, Where wondrous things are sold. We see him stop At a large shop, And with the bland clerk’s courteous aid This was the purchase that he made: A bicycle of finest make, With modern gear and patent brake, Pedometer, pneumatic tire, And spokes that looked like silver wire, A lantern bright To shine at night, Enamel finish, nickel plate, And all improvements up to date. Said sly Sir Rat: “It suits me well, Especially that sweet-toned bell.”

The shades of night were falling fast When Sir Rat turned toward home at last. The neighbors watched him as he passed And said: “What is that queer-shaped thing? Surely that can’t be made to ring.” Sir Rat went on, nor stayed To hear the jests they made; And just outside the old cat’s gate He stopped and boldly braved his fate, For if that cat Should smell a rat How quickly he’d come out and catch him, And with what gusto he’d despatch him! Sir Rat, against the picket-fence Leaned the machine, then hurried hence, And hid himself with glee, And waited breathlessly To see what that Cantankerous cat Would say, when in the twilight dim He saw that brightly shining rim. Sir Rat, though hidden quite, And safely out of sight, Had scarcely time to wink his eye, When Mr. Cat came sauntering by. “Ha! Ha!” said he, “What’s this I see, A bicycle! and just my size! Well, this, indeed, is a surprise! I’ll confiscate This treasure great; How quickly I’ll fly o’er the ground When I pursue my hunting round!” He mounted it with eager haste, It suited well his sporting taste; He guided it at will, And used the brake with skill, He grasped the handle-bars, and then— You see it was his custom when He did a thing, to do it well— Of course he used the clear-toned bell!

Victory now! the deed is done! No longer at the set of sun The rats fly shrieking to their nests, They saunter round with merry jests And ne’er a thought of fear, Knowing full well They’ll hear the bell When Mr. Cat draws near.

And young Sir Rat who did the deed, Whose cleverness relieved their need, His wondrous enterprise Was lauded to the skies. And everywhere his name Was hailed with shouts of fame. In difficulties, oft we see Modern improvements frequently Will prove a happy remedy.

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