He never lacks, nor has to buy, but cells His surplus food gleaned from the flower-fringed dells. A thrifty fellow is the Busy Bee And fortified against Emergency. A Bee's Ears Contain no Wax And he Saves his Combings Against the Baldness of Old Age. The Mule is well equipped but lacks the _mind_; His strategy is in his heels, behind. If pointed wrong, his practice is not dreaded, But kick he will, no matter how he's headed. With foresight lacking, hindsight to the fore, He'll be just simple Mule forevermore; Without the range or sight he'll blaze away And thwart his purpose with his brazen bray. If well-directed effort were his cult No fortress could withstand his catapult. A Mule should Conserve His Ammunition and Not Shoot-off his Mouth. The Burglar, have you noticed? never troubles To look for petty loot in obscure hovels. He packs his kit and steals adown the road To Gaspard Moneybags' renowned abode. He knows the house-plan ("inside" dope, no doubt) And when he's _in_, old Moneybags is _out_. But Jimmy does not dent the window-sash; He enters _thru the door_ and gets the cash. Prepared? Well, yes! He knew just where to look, For Nora hung the key upon the hook. Team-work is The Handmaiden Of Efficiency. It pays to be Prepared, you see, and so The Snail in Armored Car goes safe, tho' slow; And Alligators in their Coats of Mail Withstand assaults where those, defenceless, fail. The Tortoise totes his Caripace around And dwells in safety where his foes abound; While Wasps, with poisoned javelins, defend Successfully their offspring to the _end_. A Sheep with ramparts has no thought of fear, But guards his buttress when his foes appear, And any Skunk can frighten and harass An Army with Asphyxiating Gas. THE FUGITIVE KISS How I loved her! There on the gate we'd lean, (The dear, old gate that never gave away The loving nothings we were wont to say) From day to day, And sometimes after dark; She was my Angel-Sweetheart, just sixteen. But I was shy! And while I longed to taste The nectar of her lips, I was afraid To draw her to my breast and kiss the Maid: But I essayed! And this is what I drew-- "There's Papa with the bulldog, so make haste!" What could I do? The "bark" was flecked with foam, And old man Jones was meaner than a cur; So there I stood 'twixt fear, and love of her And didn't stir Until they came: and then I kissed them _all_ Good-bye and _beat it home_. _NEW_ MEXICAN NATIONAL ANTHEM