LETTER VIII.

Old friend, you certainly have merit;

You really are a bird of spirit.

I'm quite surprised, I must confess;

I did not think you did possess

Such valour as you've lately shown —

In fact,‘ tis nearly like my own.

You know I've always been renown'd

For bravery, since first I found

That I could hiss; and feel I'm bolder

Each year that I am growing older.

You must, I'm sure, have often seen,

When in the pond, or on the green,

With all my family about me

( I can n't think how they'd do without me ),

Some human thing come striding by,

And how, without a scruple, I

March after him, and bite his heel;

And then, you know, the pride I feel

To hear, as back I march again,

The feat extoll'd by all my train.

But if I were to tell you all

The valiant actions, great and small,

That ever were achieved by me,

I never should have done, I see;

For cows, and pigs, and horses know

The consequence of such a foe.

However, I am glad to find

That you have such a noble mind,

And think, my friend, that by and by

You'll rise to be as great as I.