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The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot]

... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes

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SOLOMON AND THE MOUSETRAP.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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SOLOMON AND THE MOUSETRAP.

A MAN in rather an exalted station,
Whose eyes are always eyes of admiration,
Without distinction, fond of all things novel,
Ev'n from the lofty sceptre to the shovel—
Just like stray'd bullocks saunt'ring thro' the lanes,
Made frequent curiosity campaigns;
Sometimes caught grasshoppers—now more profound,
Would sometimes find a pin upon the ground;
Where if the head towards him happ'd to point,
His mind was wonderfully struck—
Indeed he felt a joy in ev'ry joint,
Because it always brings good luck.
This gentleman, hight Solomon, one day
In quest of novelty pursu'd his way;
Like great Columbus, that fam'd navigator,
Who found the world we've lost across the water;
But rather on a somewhat narrower scale,
Lo! on dry land the gentleman set sail—
That day it chanc'd to be his will,
To make discoveries at Salthill;
Where bounce he hopp'd into a widow's house,
Whose hands were both employ'd so clever,

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Doing their very best endeavour
To catch that vile freebooter, Monsieur Mouse;
Whose death she oft did most devoutly pray for,
Because he eat the meat he could not pay for.
Resembling Christians in that saving trick,
Who, wanting to obtain good cheer,
Invented an ingenious scheme call'd tick,
That purchases, like money, beef and beer:
Possess'd of tick, for cash man need not range,
Nor toil in taking or in giving change.
Eager did Solomon so curious clap
His rare round optics on the wondrous trap
That did the duty of a cat;
And always fond of useful information,
Thus wisely spoke he with vociferation:
‘What's that?—What, what? hæ, hæ! what's that:’
To whom, reply'd the mistress of the house,
‘A trap, an't please you, sir, to catch a mouse.’
‘Mouse!—catch a mouse!’ said Solomon with glee—
‘Let's see—let's see—'tis comical—let's see—
Mouse!—mouse!’—then pleas'd his eyes began to roll—
‘Where, where doth he go in? he marvelling cry'd—
‘There,’ pointing to the hole, the dame reply'd.—
‘What here?’ cry'd Solomon; ‘this hole, this hole?’
Then in he push'd his finger 'midst the wire,
That with such pains that finger did inspire,
He wish'd it out again with all his soul:
However, by a little squall and shaking,
He freed his finger from its piteous taking—
That is to say, he got it from the hole.
‘What makes the mouse, pray, go into the trap?—
Something,’ he cry'd ‘that must their palates please.’
‘Yes,’ answer'd the fair woman, ‘sir, a scrap
Of rusty bacon, or of toasted cheese.’

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‘Oh! oh!’ said Solomon, ‘oh! oh! oh! oh!
Yes, yes, I see the meaning of it now—
The mouse goes in, a rogue, to steal the meat,
Thinking to give his gums a pretty treat.’
Then laugh'd he loudly, stretch'd his mouth a mile,
Which made the muscles of the widow smile.
‘Let's see, let's see,’ cry'd Solomon—‘let's see—
Let me, let me, let me, let me, let me.’
Then took he up some bacon, and did clap
A little slice so clever in the trap.
Thus did he by his own advice,
Induce himself to bait a trap for mice!
Now home he hied so nimbly, whelm'd with glory,
And told his family the wondrous story
About the widow's cheese and bacon scrap!
Nought suffer'd he to occupy his head,
Save mouse ideas, till he went to bed,
Where blest he dreamt all night about the trap.
Here let me pause, and Heav'n's great goodness chant—
How kind it is in gracious Heav'n to grant
To full-grown gentlefolks of lofty station,
A pow'r of relishing most trifling things,
Pleasures ordain'd for brats in leading strings,
By way of happy harmless relaxation!
Next day the man of wisdom came,
All glorious, to the house of this fair dame,
To known if master mouse had smelt to bacon;
When, lo! to fill with joy his eager eyes,
And load those staring optics with surprise,
A real mouse was absolutely taken!
Not more did Rodney's joy this man surpass,
When in his cabin first he saw De Grasse!
Not more the hair-brain'd Macedonian boy,
Leap'd, like a Bedlamite, for joy,
Than Solomon to see the mouse in jail!
Not Alexander, foe of great Darius,

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(Men that with rich comparison supply us)
When blest he caught the Persian by the tail.
Around the room the mouse he bore,
Insulting the poor pris'ner o'er and o'er;
Laughing and peeping through the wire,
As if his eyes and mouth would never tire!
How like to Tamerlane the great,
Possess'd of most unlucky Bajazet,
Who kept the vanquish'd hero in a cage;
Mock'd him before his mighty host,
With cruel names and threats, and grin and boast,
And daily thus indulg'd imperial rage!
Now o'er the widow's cat, poor watching puss,
He triumph'd too, and ask'd the cat,
When he would act heroically thus?—
And if he dar'd to venture on a rat?
To whom the cat, as if in answer, mew'd,
Which made the man of wisdom cry, ‘Oh! oh!’
As if with knowledge of cat speech endu'd,
He thought that puss had answer'd ‘No,’
On which he laugh'd, and much enjoy'd the joke—
Then told the widow what the cat had spoke.
Six days the man of wisdom went
Triumphant to Salthill, with big intent,
To catch the bacon-stealing mouse;
Six mice successively proclaim'd his art,
With which safe pocketed he did depart,
And show'd to all his much-astonish'd house.
But pleasures will not last for aye;
Witness the sequel of my lay—
The widow's vanity, her sex's flaw,
Much like the vanity of other people—
A vapour, like the blast that lifts a straw,
As high, or higher, than Saint Martin's steeple:
This vanity then kidnapp'd her discretion,
Design'd by God Almighty for her guard;

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And of its purpose got the full completion,
And all the widow's future glories marr'd:
For, lo! by this same vanity impell'd,
And to a middle-siz'd balloon,
With gas of consequence sublimely swell'd,
She burst with the important secret soon.
Loud laugh'd the tickled people of Salthill—
Loud laugh'd the merry Windsor folks around—
This was to Solomon an ugly pill!—
Her fatal error soon the widow found—
For Solomon relinquish'd mouse campaign,
Nor deign'd to bait the widow's trap again!