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FABLES FOR THE FRIVOLOUS
To say the least, this tactless beast
Was apt to rudely roister:
She tapped his shell, and called him—well,
A name that hurt the oyster.
Was apt to rudely roister:
She tapped his shell, and called him—well,
A name that hurt the oyster.
"I see," she cried, "you're open wide,
And, searching for a reason,
September's here, and so it's clear
That oysters are in season."
She smiled a smile that showed this style
Of badinage rejoiced her,
Advanced a pace with easy grace,
And sniffed the silent oyster.
And, searching for a reason,
September's here, and so it's clear
That oysters are in season."
She smiled a smile that showed this style
Of badinage rejoiced her,
Advanced a pace with easy grace,
And sniffed the silent oyster.
The latter's pride was sorely tried,
He thought of what he could say,
Reflected what the common lot
Of vulgar molluscs would say;
Then caught his breath, grew pale as death,
And, as his brow turned moister,
Began to close, and nipped her nose!
Superb, dramatic oyster!
He thought of what he could say,
Reflected what the common lot
Of vulgar molluscs would say;
Then caught his breath, grew pale as death,
And, as his brow turned moister,
Began to close, and nipped her nose!
Superb, dramatic oyster!
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