The "Living Dog" And "The Dead Lion."

Next week will be published (as "Lives" are the rage)
    The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange,
Of a small puppy-dog that lived once in the cage
    Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change.

Tho' the dog is a dog of the kind they call "sad,"
    'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends;
And few dogs have such opportunities had
    Of knowing how Lions behave--among friends;

How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks,
    Is all noted down by this Boswell so small;
And 'tis plain from each sentence, the puppy-dog thinks
    That the Lion was no such great things after all.

Tho' he roared pretty well--this the puppy allows--
    It was all, he says, borrowed--all second-hand roar;
And he vastly prefers his own little bow-wows
    To the loftiest war-note the Lion could pour.

'Tis indeed as good fun as a Cynic could ask,
    To see how this cockney-bred setter of rabbits
Takes gravely the Lord of the Forest to task,
    And judges of lions by puppy-dog habits.

Nay, fed as he was (and this makes it a dark case)
    With sops every day from the Lion's own pan,
He lifts up his leg at the noble beast's carcass.
    And does all a dog so diminutive can.

However, the book's a good book, being rich in
    Examples and warnings to lions high-bred,
How they suffer small mongrelly curs in their kitchen,
    Who'll feed on them living and foul them when dead.

T. PIDCOCK

Exeter 'Change,