Whenever thus given, it tends To lessen the angry bestower; The _fowl_ that inflicts it, descends-- The _featherless_ biped, still lower. THE ENVIOUS LOBSTER. A Lobster from the water came, And saw another, just the same In form and size; but gayly clad In scarlet clothing; while she had No other raiment to her back Than her old suit of greenish black. "So ho!" she cried, "'t is very fine! Your dress was yesterday like mine; And in the mud below the sea, You lived, a crawling thing, like me. But now, because you 've come ashore, You 've grown so proud, that what you wore-- Your strong old suit of bottle-green, You think improper to be seen. To tell the truth, I don 't see why You should be better dressed than I. And I should like a suit of red As bright as yours, from feet to head. I think I' m quite as good as you, And might be clothed in scarlet, too." "Will you be boiled?" her owner said, "To be arrayed in glowing red? Come here, my discontented miss, And hear the scalding kettle hiss! Will you go in, and there be boiled, To have your dress, so old and soiled, Exchanged for one of scarlet hue?" "Yes," cried the lobster, "that I 'll do, And twice as much, if needs must be, To be as gayly clad as she." Then, in she made a fatal dive, And never more was seen alive! Now, if you ever chance to know Of one as fond of dress and show As that vain lobster, and withal As envious, you 'll perhaps recall To mind her folly, and the plight In which she reappeared to sight. She had obtained a bright array, But for it, thrown herself away! Her life and death were best untold, But for the moral they unfold! KIT WITH THE ROSE. A rose tree stood in the parlor, When kit came frolicking by; So up went her feet on the window-seat, To a rose, that had caught her eye. She gave it a cuff, and it trembled Beneath her ominous paw; And while it shook, with a threatening look She coveted what she saw. Thought she, "What a beautiful toss-ball, If I could but give it a snap, Now all are out, nor thinking about Their rose, or the least mishap!" She twisted the stem, and she twirled it; And, seizing the flower it bore With the timely aid of her teeth, she made A leap to the parlor floor. And over the carpet she tossed it, All fresh in its morning bloom, Till shattered and rent, its leaves were sent To every side of the room. At length, with her sport grown weary, She laid herself down to sun, Inclining to doze, forgetting the rose And the mischief she had done.