The Vain Mouse.
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UPON a river side
A Frog had built his house;
And in a hole close by
There lived a little Mouse.
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Now as they lived so near,
And went out in fine weather,
They used to meet sometimes,
And laugh and talk together.
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Thus as they jogg’d along
So happily through life,
The neighbours often said,
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Now Mouse was rather gay,
While Froggy was most proper;
And so he said one day,
’Tis time for me to stop her.
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A fair offer, |
That very afternoon,
As they were taking tea,
I love you, Mouse, said he;
Pray will you marry me?
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But Mouse was very vain;
And, though mice are so rife,
I’m sure she thought herself
The prettiest mouse in life.
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rejected with
disdain.
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So looking grave at Frog
That he should dare to woo,
She said,—how can I love
A cold, damp thing, like you?
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Then jumping from her seat,
As if to shew her spite,
She whisk’d him with her tail,
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But, as it so fell out,
Old Pussy had been walking,
And stopp’d to listen there
While Frog and Mouse were talking:
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Vanity
meets its deserts.
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And just as this vain Mouse
Was trotting home to bed,
Old Pussy cried,—Stop, stop!
And seized her by the head.
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Then Froggy who peep’d out
And saw how she was treated,
It serves her right, said he,
For being so conceited.
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So Pussy took poor Mouse,
And gave her to her kittens,
Who supp’d upon her flesh,
But saved her skin for mittens.
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