No Breakfast for Growler.

No, naughty Growler, get away,

You shall not have a bit;

Now, when I speak, how dare you stay?

I can’t spare any, Sir, I say,

And so you need not sit.

Poor Growler! do not make him go,

But recollect, before,

That he has never served you so,

For you have giv’n him many a blow,

That patiently he bore.

Poor Growler, if he could but speak,

He’d tell (as well he might)

How he would bear with many a freak,

And wag his tail, and look so meek,

And neither bark nor bite.

Upon his back he lets you ride,

And drive about the yard:

And now, while sitting by your side,

To have a bit of bread denied,

Is really very hard.

And all your little tricks he’ll bear,

And never seem to mind;

And yet you say you cannot spare

One bit of breakfast for his share,

Although he is so kind.