Four hungry-looking animals

All seated in a row;

Why does not some one speak to them?

That's what I want to know.

They all of them were bidden to

A fine Thanksgiving feast,

And now, it seems to me, their host

Might welcome them, at least.

'Twas Master Pug invited them,

Why does he not appear?

'Tis plain they think his absence looks

Extremely rude and queer.

Alas! poor Pug's in trouble sore,

The host he cannot play;

No feast for self or friends has he

On this Thanksgiving Day.

He saw a turkey, large and fat,

Upon the kitchen shelf.

"That's just the very thing I want,"

Said he unto himself.

He caught the turkey, but the cook

Caught him with firmer grasp,

And shook him till he could not bark

But only choke and gasp.

Meanwhile, those hungry animals,

Who'd waited there in vain,

Declared they never would be guest

Of Mr. Pug again.

A RED, RED ROSE A STORY OF THE CHRIST-CHILD facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail