Page 34 - Poetry-Whimsy

He smooths his whiskers, walks the ring,
Winks at the princess and her lover,
Then smiles serenely at the king
And scans the multitude all over.

His lordly form and bearing made
Fit setting for the part he played.
He on the sands of that theayter
From top to toe looked glad he ate her.

He peered and purred and paced awhile
With that same soft, seductive smile,
Then to a shady corner crept
And laid him down and sweetly slept.

The king in this a portent sees.
Quoth he, while quake the royal knees,
“Go, daughter, quickly as you can
And wed that praiseworthy young man.”

The princess trips across the sands
To where her lover waiting stands.
They’re married fast, mid cheers and laughter,
And then—live happy ever after.

Oft did the swain in later life
Demand the secret from his wife;
And by all arts strove to oblige her
To tell which door had hid the tiger.

But she, as all historians say,
Kept silent to her dying day:
So no step further ever made he
To solve the problem “Death or Lady.”

— Joseph Kirkland (Century Magazine, 1883)

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