Page:Poems Cook.djvu/155

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OLD PINCHER.
If my own kin or kind had demolish'd my ball,
The transgression was mark'd with a scuffle and squall;
But with perfect consent he might mouth it about,
Till the very last atom of sawdust was out.

When halfpence were doled for the holiday treat,
How I long'd for the comfits, so lusciously sweet;
But cakes must be purchased, for how could I bear
To feast on a luxury Pinch could not share?

I fondled, I fed him, I coax'd or I cuff'd,—
I drove or I led him, I sooth'd or I huff'd:
He had beatings in anger, and huggings in love,
But which were most cruel, 'twere a puzzle to prove.

If he dared to rebel, I might battle and wage
The fierce war of a tyrant with petulant rage:
I might ply him with kicks, or belabour with blows;
But Pincher was never once known to oppose.

Did a mother appear, the loud quarrel to learn;
If 'twere only with him, it gave little concern:
No ill-usage could rouse him, no insult could chafe;
While Pinch was the playmate, her darling was safe.

If the geese on the common gave signal of fear,
And screams most unmusical startled the ear,
The cause was soon guessed, for my foremost delight
Was in seeing Pinch put the old gander to flight.

Had the pantry been rifled of remnant of beef,
Shrewd suspicions were form'd of receiver and thief;
For I paused not at crime, and I blush'd not at fibs,
That assisted to nurture his well-cover'd ribs.

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