  A Fable is Majesty the King of Beasts, Tired of fuss and formal feasts, Once resolved that he would go On a tour incognito. But a suitable disguise Was not easy to devise; Kingly natures do not care Other people’s things to wear. is Majesty the King of Beasts, Tired of fuss and formal feasts, Once resolved that he would go On a tour incognito. But a suitable disguise Was not easy to devise; Kingly natures do not care Other people’s things to wear. The very thought filled him with shame. “No, I will simply change my name,” Said he, “and go just as I am, And call myself a Woolly Lamb.” And so he did, and as you’ll guess, He had a measure of success. Disguised in name alone, he yet Took in ’most every one he met. The first was Mister Wolf, who said, “Your Majesty—” “Off with his head!” The angry monarch roared. “I am, I’d have you know, a Woolly Lamb.” Then Mistress Lamb, who, being near, Had heard, addressed him: “Brother dear—” “Odds cats!” the lion roared. “My word! Such insolence I never heard!” His rage was a terrific sight (It almost spoiled his appetite). And so it went, until one day He met Sir Fox, who stopped to say (Keeping just far enough away, Yet in a casual, off-hand way, As if he did n’t care a fig), “Good-morning to you, Thingumjig.” To-day we think it infra dig, To use such words as Thing um jig; But what is now a vulgar word In those days never had been heard. Sir Fox himself invented it This great emergency to fit. The King of Beasts, quite unprepared For this reception, simply stared. The King of Beasts, quite unprepared For this reception, simply stared. Of course he was not going to show There was a word he did not know. He bowed, and with his haughtiest air Resumed his walk; but everywhere He went his subjects, small and big, Took up the cry of Thingumjig. It followed him where’er he went; He did n’t dare his rage to vent. Suppose it were a compliment? His anger then would only show Here was a word he did not know! The only course for him ’t was clear, Was to pretend he did not hear. And this he did until, at length, Long fasting so impaired his strength He gave his tour up in despair, Mid great rejoicing everywhere. And this he did until, at length, Long fasting so impaired his strength He gave his tour up in despair, Mid great rejoicing everywhere. |
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