With some confusion, Bruin heard
Such praises by a Pig conferred;
He communed with himself a while,
And muttered thus, in altered style:
"I must confess the Monkey's blame
Made me feel doubtful of my fame;
But since the Pigs their praise concede,
My dancing must be bad, indeed!"The Muff, the Fan, and the Parasol
"It sounds presumptuous and ill
To boast of universal skill,
But 'tis a scarce less fault, I own,
To serve one sort of use alone."
An idle Parasol, one day,
Within a lady's chamber lay,
And having nothing else to do,
Addressing his companions two,
Reclining near, a Muff and Fan,
He thus insultingly began,
Using a form of dialect,
In which, if Aesop is correct,
The Brass and Earthern Jars, of old,
Conversed as down the stream they rolled.
"Oh! sirs, ye merit mighty praise!
Yon Muff may do for wintry days,
A corner is your lot in spring;
While you, Fan, are a useless thing
When cold succeeds to heat; for neither
Can change yourself to suit the weather
Learn, if you're able to possess,
Like me a double usefulness,
From winter's rain I help to shun
And guard in summer from the sun."