“Ladies, and gentlemen,” the Professor began, “the Other Professor is so kind as to recite a Poem. The title of it is ‘The Pig-Tale.’ He never recited it before!” (General cheering among the guests.) “He will never recite it again!” (Frantic excitement, and wild cheering all down the hall, the Professor himself mounting the table in hot haste, to lead the cheering, and waving his spectacles in one hand and a spoon in the other.) Then the Other Professor got up, and began:— Little Birds are dining Warily and well, Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters Gorgeous in their gaiters— I’ve a Tale to tell. [Illustration: ‘TEACHING TIGRESSES TO SMILE’] Little Birds are feeding Justices with jam, Rich in frizzled ham: Rich, I say, in oysters Haunting shady cloisters— That is what I am. Little Birds are teaching Tigresses to smile, Innocent of guile: Smile, I say, not smirkle— Mouth a semicircle, That’s the proper style. Little Birds are sleeping All among the pins, Where the loser wins: Where, I say, he sneezes When and how he pleases— So the Tale begins. There was a Pig that sat alone Beside a ruined Pump: By day and night he made his moan— It would have stirred a heart of stone To see him wring his hoofs and groan, Because he could not jump. A certain Camel heard him shout— A Camel with a hump. “Oh, is it Grief, or is it Gout? What is this bellowing about?” That Pig replied, with quivering snout, “Because I cannot jump!” That Camel scanned him, dreamy-eyed. “Methinks you are too plump. I never knew a Pig so wide— That wobbled so from side to side— Who could, however much he tried, Do such a thing as _jump_! “Yet mark those trees, two miles away, All clustered in a clump: If you could trot there twice a day, Nor ever pause for rest or play, In the far future—Who can say?— You may be fit to jump.” [Illustration: ‘HORRID WAS THAT PIG’S DESPAIR!’] That Camel passed, and left him there, Beside the ruined Pump. Oh, horrid was that Pig’s despair! His shrieks of anguish filled the air. He wrung his hoofs, he rent his hair, Because he could not jump. There was a Frog that wandered by— A sleek and shining lump: Inspected him with fishy eye, And said “O Pig, what makes you cry?” And bitter was that Pig’s reply, “Because I cannot jump!” That Frog he grinned a grin of glee, And hit his chest a thump “O Pig,” said, “be ruled by me, And you shall see what you shall see. This minute, for a trifling fee, I’ll teach you how to jump! “You may be faint from many a fall, And bruised by many a bump: But, if you persevere through all, And practise first on something small, Concluding with a ten-foot wall, You’ll find that you can jump!”