And into the coop he was thrown:
The chickens hid under their mother,
For he, by his feathers was known
As he, who had murdered their brother
Dame Biddy, beholding his plight,
Determined to show him no quarter,
In action gave vent to her spite;
As motherly tenderness taught her.
She shouted, and blustered; and then
Attacked the poor captive unfriended;
And you, (who have witnessed a hen
In anger,) may guess how it ended.
She made him a touching address,
If pecking and scratching could do it;
Till sinking in silent distress,
He perished before she got through it.
We would not, however, convey
A thought like approving the fury,
That gave, in this summary way,
Punition without judge or jury.
Whenever 'tis given, it tends
To lessen the angry bestower.
The _fowl_ that inflicts it descends--
But the _featherless biped_, still lower.
=Kit With the Rose=
A Rose-tree stood in the parlor,
When Kit came frolicking by;
So, up went her feet on the window-seat,
To a rose that had caught her eye.
She gave it a cuff, and it trembled
Beneath her ominous paw;
And while it shook, with a threatening look,
She coveted what she saw.
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