'But, now, ere farther I proceed, 6 Myself will own each doubtful deed 'I've done; e'en I, who sit as Judge, From this dread ordeal must not budge; And, where I've err'd, for nought I'll mask, 'I pardon of dread justice ask. I've chickens eaten now and then, Many's the time and oft' an hen; 'But mine's a frame of fragile make; 'Study and public business shake So much my nerves, that, without question, I've hurt the organs of digestion. 'And hence a doctor sage decreed 'I ever must on white meat feed; 'I've grey and green geese ate, but, mark, ''Twas when I caught them in the dark; And there's a proverb sets me right, "All colour'd cats are grey at night.' 'Hence you'll allow I had no mean mete Το prove them white, or grey, or green meat. 'Ducks, as strong meat, the sage forbid, And did I eat 'em?" yes, I did 'I one day ate fine ducks a dozen, "Which for the spit next day were chosen ; 'So dead in law was ev'ry creature, 'And dead in law is dead in nature; → Disclaim'd by nature and by law, Nonentity proves no faux pas. 'As sick folks must have white meat pickings, 'This clears me of the hen and chickens; 'An old game cock I chanc'd to stuff, Who for white meat, was much too tough; 'But then his conduct cost him life, 'With all he liv'd in endless strife; 'I can't, I own, who right ne'er wrench; For, when the fount of judgment's pure, 'You hope! The worst of all I've tried: 'Your master's cabbages to eat! 'Monstrous; your death shall soon defeat The plague, which doubtless here was sent, "For such a crime, small punishment!' The quivering Ass-'My dearest Sir, 'Indeed too harshly you infer; 'I only ate the leaves.'-' O, shame!. Caitiff, is not the act the same? But eat the leaves! shall that avail? That spoil'd the cabbages for sale.'Alas!' the Ass- near famish'd, I No other way could want supply: 'And e'en your lordship has declar'd, ' (And who to controvert has dar'd "Your dread decree?) that 'tis no flaw, (Necessity allow'd no law "When it impels) our wasting wants To gratify with what chance grants.' Insolent!'-th' upright Judge rejoin'd, Your sin is of the blackest kind; These gentlemen had errors, true, 'But have excuse; there's none for you. 'Ingratitude your crime encreas'd; Your master found your daily feast, 'And you repay the hand that fed By eating up his daily bread! Of all the crimes by nature nurs'd Ingratitude's proclaim'd the worst! 'That vice can never be defended; "You die!'-his death the judgment ended. FABLE LXIII. THE BOY, THE CAT AND THE YOUNG BIRDS, By Mary Anne Davis. SWEET is in spring the mellow note Dry sticks and verdant moss away; Yet there are miscreants who delight These creatures' fondest hopes to blight; Who plunder ev'ry nest they find, He views his father's agony; For so they'd grieve, were life's best gem, In Spring laid all the neighbourhood waste: Festoons of speckled eggs, well strung, |