The "Living Dog" And "The Dead Lion."

Next week will be published (as "Lives" are the rage)         The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange,     Of a small puppy-dog that lived once in the cage         Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change.     Tho' the dog is a dog of the kind they call "sad,"         'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends;     And few dogs have such opportunities had         Of knowing how Lions behave--among friends;     How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks,         Is all noted down by this Boswell so small;     And 'tis plain from each sentence, the puppy-dog thinks         That the Lion was no such great things after all.     Tho' he roared pretty well--this the puppy allows--         It was all, he says, borrowed--all second-hand roar;     And he vastly prefers his own little bow-wows         To the loftiest war-note the Lion could pour.     'Tis indeed as good fun as a Cynic could ask,         To see how this cockney-bred setter of rabbits     Takes gravely the Lord of the Forest to task,         And judges of lions by puppy-dog habits.     Nay, fed as he was (and this makes it a dark case)         With sops every day from the Lion's own pan,     He lifts up his leg at the noble beast's carcass.         And does all a dog so diminutive can.     However, the book's a good book, being rich in         Examples and warnings to lions high-bred,     How they suffer small mongrelly curs in their kitchen,         Who'll feed on them living and foul them when dead.     T. PIDCOCK     Exeter 'Change,