Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton :: :: University of Virginia Library

One more new claimant for
Ipswich instruction,
Swelling the crowds that have
Sought introduction.
I, as I see the guest,
Tremble to look at him,
And I am tempted to
Throw my French book at him.

Room for him somewhere
Out of the house;
I am afraid of the
Shade of a mouse!
Frighten the stranger
With broomstick away,
Valiantly, speedily,
Do not delay.

See in his fearfulness
How his eye glistens,—
See how his little heart
Throbs as he listens,
Strange that his mouseship
Had no adviser
Who could have counselled him
To have been wiser!

Could he but have a glimpse
Into futurity,
Well might he tremble
For his security.
Yet does it seem to me,
If he “makes tracks,”
He may escape from
Hostile attacks.

The wonder to me is,
How did he get there—

Under whose auspices
Now does he sit there?
Truly his ingress is
Clouded in mystery;
I am sure I cannot
Guess at its history.

Something too much of this
Cowardly prating.
See now how sober he
Looks, meditating.
Now he squeals lustily—
Bravo! my hearty one,
Lungs like an orator
Cheering his party on.

Look how his little eyes
Turn to us pleadingly,
Can we help pitying,
Pitying exceedingly?
Partly with laughter and
Partly with fears,
See! see! he is coming!
Leap up on the chairs!

Now then, to hunt him out:
Who is there cool for it?
Turn to Miss Robinson,
Or to the school for it?

Sure 'tis a branch of
Practical science,
And this young mouse sets
Rules at defiance.

Hark! Mrs. Cowles bids us
Let him alone.
Wait a few moments
And he will be gone.
There! he is running
Out of the house,
So now, farewell to thee,
Wandering mouse.