Chapter_77

2 0 00

Some poets they abroad do roam,

But we find themes are near to home;

As we do seldom travel far,

This is a song of a glass jar.

Snake of species of the copper,

And on its head there was live hopper,

For we saw that funny sight

In a store, it was last night.

There in water was a snake,

And a bug so wide awake;

He was afraid that he would drown

So he clomb up on the snake’s crown.

This snake it is near a foot long,

Which doth suffer this great wrong,

It thinks the bug wants it to throttle

This makes it wriggle in the bottle.

But fondly the kind hearted bug,

It doth its preserver hug,

For the bug when on the water

It is only but a squatter.

And hath taken up homestead

On the top of the snake’s head,

And on the waters it doth float

Safe and happy on this boat.