  The Lion once said to the Gnat: "You brat, Clear out just as quick as you can, now--s'cat! If you meddle with me I will not guarantee That you won't be slammed perfectly flat-- D'ye see?" If you meddle with me I will not guarantee that you won't be slammed perfectly flat. Said the Gnat: "Because you're called King--you thing!-- You fancy that you will make me take wing. Why, an ox weighs much more, Yet I drive him before When I get good and ready to sting. Now, roar!" Then loudly his trumpet he blew. And--whew! How fiercely and fast at his foe he flew. From the tail to the toes He draws blood as he goes. Then he starts in to sting and to chew His nose. Sir Lion was mad with the pain. In vain He roared and he foamed and he shook his mane. All the beasts that were nigh Fled in fear from his cry. But the Gnat only stung him again-- In the eye. He looked and laughed as he saw--Haw, Haw!-- The Lion self-torn by his tooth and claw, So His Majesty's hide With his own blood was dyed. Said the Gnat: "Shall I serve you up raw-- Or fried?" It's finished. The Lion's loud roar is o'er. He's bitten and beaten, he's sick and sore. But a spider's web spread Trapped the Gnat as he sped With the news...He will never fight more-- He's dead! 9,3 |
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