The Old Stone House by Constance Fenimore Woolson
page 80 of 270 (29%)
page 80 of 270 (29%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
I'm death on piratical cats,
And, mangled and gory, The bodies of hundreds of rats Testify to my glory. My duty I try to fulfil Whenever I know it; If I do not accomplish your will You've only to show it; Yet, though I'm thus honest and square In all my dealings, It is plain that you are not aware A dog has his feelings. If master is kept in at school Why must I feel the stick? If sweetheart is distant and cool, Why should I get a kick? If Turk steals the mutton for dinner, And goes off to gulp it, Why screen HIM, the solemn old sinner, And call ME the culprit? And if I am fond of the sand-banks, And fresh garden-soil, Why should you molest with your brickbats My hard, honest toil? And why should you call it a 'dusty muss,' And make me abandon My labor? Remember, 'DE GUSTIBUS |
|