 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
IN CONSEQUENCE OF APPLAUSE
“What makes you so round?”Said an indolent Hound
To a Tiger that looked
As if he had booked
All the pilgrims of earth
For an inside berth.
Said the Tiger: “I strayed
To the edge of a glade
Where a man on a stump,
Sleek, handsome and plump,
His notions expounded
383
Him there with their ears
Erected like spears
For the words that he flung
From his flickering tongue.”
“Yes, yes, my good cat,
But what of all that?
That statesman, I swear,
Had enough and to spare
Of the breezes that blow
Out of heaven, but, O
'Tis remarkably odd he
Could blow up your body
And make you so poddy.”
“By-and-by the man stopped,
And his forehead he mopped,
And his scalp—which was bald.
Then somebody called
For three cheers—” “Hully Gee!
I'm beginning to see.”
“And a tiger. That's me.”
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |