IN ancient times when beasts could talk,

When fish and fowl could reason,

When crimes were tried among the brutes,

From petty theft to treason,

It chanced that on a river's bank

A flock of geese resided.

The age exact in which they lived

As yet is undecided;

But sure it is, they had their day:

To-day we have their story, -

A tale as full of sham pretence

As 't is devoid of glory.

It came to pass one summer night,

When all the heavens were gleaming

With twinkling stars, and o'er the earth

The full round moon was beaming,

That thirteen ganders from the flock

Assembled in convention,

Determined on a mighty scheme;

And this was their intention:

To make a law - a rigid law -

To keep the moon from shining.

They did n't like the lunar orb,

"Because," they said, repining,

"She never shone two days alike,

But, law and order scorning,

She sometimes failed to shine at all,

Or rose at early morning."

"And this is why," exclaimed a bird,

His wings in anger flapping,

"Near half our precious lives are spent

In idle dreams and napping."

"Yes, yes," outspoke another fowl,

Whose tongue outweighed his learning,

"All things are made for ganders, sure;

For us the world is turning.

Then must we sacrifice our rights,

With half our pleasures, and-er

Be made the dupes of Madam Moon?

No! not if I'm a gander!"

"That's where you're sound," hissed out a third;

"'T is time her tricks were ended;

They 're all insulting, mean, and low,

And doubtless all intended.

Her place must instantly be filled

By some more honest planet;

An orb as brilliant as the sun,

As stable as the granite.

Accordingly I throw my vote

For Madam Moon's resigning;

If she declines to acquiesce,

And still persists in shining,

Why, then, I vote to send her off,

Regardless of her feelings;

For we have been perplexed enough

By her eccentric dealings."

And so the worthies cast their votes,

Each on himself relying; -

Just six resolved to let her shine,

And seven to send her flying.

Of course thenceforth the moon was doomed;

But - strange may seem the story -

She's run her orbit ever since

With undiminished glory.

C. A. D.