A FABLE.
SOME fouks there are of such behaviour,
They'll cringe themselves intae your favour,
And whan you think their friendship staunch is,
They'll tear your character tae inches.
T' enforce this truth, as weel's I'm able,
Please, reader, tae peruse a fable.
Deborah, an auld wealthy maiden,
Wi spleen, remorse, an scandal laden,
Socht out a solitary spat,
Tae live in quiet wi her cat,
A meikle, sonsie, tabbie she ane
(For Deborah abhor'd a he ane),
And in the house, tae be a third,
She gat a wee hen chuckie bird.
Soon as our slee nocturnal ranger,
Beheld the wee bit timid stranger,
She thus began, wi frien'ly fraise,—
“Come ben, puir thing, an warm your taes ;
“This weather's cauld, an wet, an dreary,
“I'm wae tae see you look sae eerie,
“Serse ! how your tail an wings are dreepin!
“Ye've surely been in piteous keepin ; —
“See, here's my dish, come tak a pick o't,
“But, deed, I fear there's scarce a lick o't.”
Sic sympathisin words o sense
Soon gain'd puir chuckie's confidence,
An while Deborah mools some crumbs,
Auld baudrons sits, an croodlin thrumbs ;
In short, the twa soon grew sae pack,
Chuck roosted upon pussy's back !
But ere sax wee short days war gane,
When baith left in the house alane,
Then thinks the hypocritic sinner,
Noo, noo's my time tae hae a dinner ;
Sae, wi a squat, a spring, an squal,
Then mind this maxim,—Rash acquaintance,
Aft leads tae ruin and repentance.
[Semple 40]