By some strange fancy led, The same wise blunderhead, But two or three days later, Had chosen for her rest Another Weasel's nest, This last, of birds a special hater. New peril brought this step absurd: Without a moment's thought or puzzle, Dame Weasel, oped her peaked muzzle To eat th' intruder as a bird. "Hold! do not wrong me," cried the Bat; "I'm truly no such thing as that. Your eyesight strange conclusions gathers. What makes a bird, I pray? Its feathers. I'm cousin of the mice and rats. Great Jupiter confound the cats!" The Bat, by such adroit replying, Twice saved herself from dying. _And many a human stranger Thus turns his coat in danger; And sings, as suits, where'er he goes, "God save the king!"--or "save his foes!_" The Dove and the Ant A Dove came to a brook to drink, When, leaning o'er its crumbling brink, An Ant fell in, and vainly tried, In this, to her, an ocean tide, To reach the land; whereat the Dove, With every living thing in love, Was prompt a spire of grass to throw her, By which the Ant regained the shore. A barefoot scamp, both mean and sly, Soon after chanced this Dove to spy; And, being arm'd with bow and arrow, The hungry codger doubted not The bird of Venus, in his pot, Would make a soup before the morrow. Just as his deadly bow he drew, Our Ant just bit his heel. Roused by the villain's squeal, The Dove took timely hint, and flew Far from the rascal's coop-- And with her flew his soup. The Cock and the Fox