challenge would receive,Up started Shrimp, and cried, "Good sir,
To race you give me leave."
A burst of merriment then brake
From all the beasts around,
The westward-sinking sun did smile,
Though he utter'd not a sound.
Then out spoke Reynard, red with rage,
"Thou mak'st a mocking boast!"
But near him whisper'd Master Hare,
"Forget not how I lost."
The race anon was quickly plann'd,
Eftsoons a judge was nam'd,
And Fox and Shrimp quite ready stood,
Though Shrimp seem'd half-asham'd.
And now they start, one, two, away!
See, Reynard darts ahead,
Unconscious that sly Shrimp had jump'd
Upon his tail outspread.
There snug he lay, so close and warm,
While Reynard tore apace,
And laugh'd, as only shrimps can laugh,
In his comfortable place.
At length, as Reynard near'd the goal,
He slowly slacken'd speed,
And stopping, ere he touch'd the post,
He turn'd—he did indeed.
Then off hopp'd Shrimp, and stood at once
Up at the winning-place;
While Reynard still look'd back and cried,
"How now, who wins the race!
Where are you, villain? where are you?
Not e'en in sight, I trow!"
"Nay, pardon, sir," behind him cried
That sly Shrimp with a bow.
Then Reynard, all abash'd, did stare
To find himself outdone!
While the jeering crowd, in high delight,
Went wild at all the fun.
But Reynard could not bear their gibes:
He slunk in haste away;
Nor ever guess'd how Shrimp contriv'd
To win the race that day.
THE KING AND QUEEN'S QUARREL
(NARRATED BY A DOLL)
I was very pleased indeed, when I first came into the world, to find that I was to become the property of a King and Queen. I had seen a great deal of life through my shop-window, and had come to the conclusion that I was formed for high society. So therefore, when my new mistress said to me, "Dolly, I am the Queen to-day, and Bertie is the King," I was not at all surprised, but held myself as firmly as before.
The King and Queen sat together on one chair, which I suppose is the constant habit of Kings and Queens. They were both very nice and neat, for the nurse had just brushed their hair. The Queen was four years old, and the King was six. And they were both the very prettiest children you could see.
The little Queen had a blue print frock, and a little round face. She had pretty shy eyes that looked out from beneath a shock of curly hair. The little King was very pretty too. And he liked to play with dolls, which I always think is a nice trait of character in a boy.
"Oh, what a lovely doll!" cried the Queen, when she first saw me. I may repeat it without vanity, for I suppose it was true. Anyway it is exactly what everybody said the moment they set eyes on me. People always praise dolls to their faces, and that is what makes us look so conceited. Even when we are old, and battered, and worn-out we still preserve a somewhat conceited air—we still look pleased and proud of ourselves so long as there is one little child who loves us, and who thinks us pretty still.
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