COL. ANSTRUTHER THOMSON 227 



The one called Anna 



With her manner 



Riled poor Parker much, 



While the brow of Parker 



Soon grew darker 



As the other gabbled Dutch. 



The one was taller, 



The other was smaller. 



But still the strife waxed hot ; 



The crisis came, 



But all the same 



Neither yielded a jot. 



The one did scold, 



So the other told 



The master of that place. 



And with many a tale 



Did her foe assail 



In the stating of her case. 



One played double, 



And a high old muddle 



Therefrom did ensue ; 



And many a tear 



In her eye did appear 



When of this her master knew. 



The other did long 



Her assailant to wrong 



Whenever a chance should come ; 



So one gave warning 



That very morning. 



Which seemed to us rather rum. 



But all the same 



They were both quite tame 



When parted from each other, 



So they settled to stay 



To the end of May, 



Till the advent of his mother. 



But for those twelve weeks 

 There are sure to be piques, 

 And both are sure to look glum ; 

 But we'll keep 'em together 

 With the help of a feather 

 And Judson's stickfast gum, 

 15* 



