THE MOUSE AND THE WEASEL
Murphy, my dear, was a bright little mouse
Murphy, my dear, was a bright little mouse
Who chanced to be born in an Irishman's house
Which furnished him food to his merry content,
(Without his host's knowledge, much less his consent!)
So Murphy was happy until, came the day
When his host packed his trunk and went riding away.
"Faith and Begorry!" our Murphy, said he,
"He didn't make any provisions for me!
Bejabbers, how selfish some people can be!"
(Having lived all his life in an Irishman's house,
He squeaked with an accent, did Murphy, the mouse.)
In a week he was thin, and so, feeling quite glum,
He scampered outdoors in search of a crumb.
His little tail twitched, and his little nose tweaked
"Here's a bin with some corn at the bottom!" he squeaked.
"And faith, here's a hole at the base of the bin
Which is just the right size for a mouse to get in,
if he's thin!"
Once in the barrel, he ate and he ate!
Yes, he ate with such greed that he doubled his weight!
Having gobbled his fill, he then found to his fright
That he couldn't get outl The hole was too tight!
He was stuck, (being now very much on the stout side)
With his tail on the inside, his head on the outside!
A weasel came by, and he stopped for a stare.
"Well, well!" he remarked with a critical air,
"Your hunger let greediness open the throttle,
So now you are stuck like a cork in a bottle!
If you want to get out by the hole you got in,
You must starve till again you're as thin as a pin!"
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| Artist Grace Lawrence |
"I know it," said Murphy. "I do, sir, indeed!
I've learned moderation is wiser than greed!"
With this pleasing moral we finish our story . . .
Faith and bejabbers, begum and begorry!
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