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‹Better GutenbergThe Talking BeastsThe Wolf, the Goat, and the Kid · 187 of 240Contents›

The Talking Beasts

by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith

187 of 240 · Contents · Download EPUB

The Wolf, the Goat, and the Kid

As went a Goat of grass to take her fill,
  And browse the herbage of a distant hill,
      She latch’d her door, and bid,
      With matron care, her Kid;
      “My daughter, as you live,
        This portal don’t undo
        To any creature who
      This watchword does not give:
    ‘Deuce take the Wolf and all his race’!”
    The Wolf was passing near the place
  By chance, and heard the words with pleasure,
      And laid them up as useful treasure;
    And hardly need we mention,
    Escaped the Goat’s attention.
        No sooner did he see
        The matron off, than he,
    With hypocritic tone and face,
    Cried out before the place,
    “Deuce take the Wolf and all his race!”
      Not doubting thus to gain admission.
      The Kid, not void of all suspicion,
      Peer’d through a crack, and cried,
    “Show me white paw before
    You ask me to undo the door.”
  The Wolf could not, if he had died,
    For wolves have no connection
    With paws of that complexion.
  So, much surprised, our gourmandiser
  Retired to fast till he was wiser.

How would the Kid have been undone
    Had she but trusted to the word
    The Wolf by chance had overheard!
  Two sureties better are than one;
    And cautions worth its cost,
    Though sometimes seeming lost.

The Fox, the Monkey, and the Animals

Left kingless by the lion’s death,
    The beasts once met, our story saith,
    Some fit successor to install.
  Forth from a dragon-guarded, moated place,
  The crown was brought and, taken from its case,
    And being tried by turns on all,
    The heads of most were found too small;
    Some horned were, and some too big;
      Not one would fit the regal gear.
    Forever ripe for such a rig,
    The Monkey, looking very queer,
    Approached with antics and grimaces,
    And, after scores of monkey faces,
  With what would seem a gracious stoop,
  Pass’d through the crown as through a hoop.
    The beasts, diverted with the thing,
    Did homage to him as their king.
    The Fox alone the vote regretted,
    But yet in public never fretted.
    When he his compliments had paid
    To royalty, thus newly made,
    “Great sire, I know a place,” said he,
      “Where lies conceal’d a treasure,
    Which, by the right of royalty,
      Should bide your royal pleasure.”
    The King lack’d not an appetite
      For such financial pelf,
    And, not to lose his royal right,
      Ran straight to see it for himself.
    It was a trap, and he was caught.
    Said Reynard, “Would you have it thought,
    You Ape, that you can fill a throne,
    And guard the rights of all, alone.
    Not knowing how to guard your own?”

The beasts all gathered from the farce,
    That stuff for kings is very scarce.

The Rat and the Oyster

A country Rat of little brains,
    Grown weary of inglorious rest,
  Left home with all its straws and grains,
    Resolved to know beyond his nest.
  When peeping through the nearest fence,
  “How big the world is, how immense!”
  He cried; “there rise the Alps, and that
  Is doubtless famous Ararat.”
  His mountains were the works of moles,
  Or dirt thrown up in digging holes!
  Some days of travel brought him where
  The tide had left the Oysters bare.
  Since here our traveller saw the sea,
  He thought these shells the ships must be.
  “My father was, in truth,” said he,
    “A coward, and an ignoramus;
  He dared not travel: as for me,
    I’ve seen the ships and ocean famous;
  Have cross’d the deserts without drinking,
  And many dangerous streams, unshrinking.”
  Among the shut-up shell-fish, one
  Was gaping widely at the sun;
  It breathed, and drank the air’s perfume,
  Expanding, like a flower in bloom.
    Both white and fat, its meat
    Appear’d a dainty treat.
  Our Rat, when he this shell espied,
  Thought for his stomach to provide.
  “If not mistaken in the matter,”
  Said he, “no meat was ever fatter,
  Or in its flavour half so fine,
  As that on which to-day I dine.”
  Thus full of hope, the foolish chap
    Thrust in his head to taste,
  And felt the pinching of a trap—
    The Oyster closed in haste.

Now those to whom the world is new
  Are wonder-struck at every view;
  And the marauder finds his match
  When he is caught who thinks to catch.

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