That jokes are sometimes paid in kind ; 

 Or if they canker in the breast, 

 He makes a foe who makes a jest. 



A village cur, of snappish race, 

 The pertest Puppy of the place, 

 Imagined that his treble throat 

 YV;is blest with music's sweetest note ; 

 In the mid road he basking lay, 

 The yelping nuisance of the way ; 

 For not a creature pass'd along, 

 But had a sample of his song. 



Soon as the trotting steed he hears, 

 He starts, he cocks his dapper ears ; 

 Away he scours, assaults his hoof; 

 Now near him snarls, now barks aloof ; 

 With shrill impertinence attends, 

 Nor leaves him till the village ends. 



It chanced, upon his evil day, 

 A Pad came pacing down the way ; 

 The Cur, with never-ceasing tongue, 

 Upon the passing trav'ller sprung. 

 The Horse, from scorn provoked to ire, 

 Flung backward : rolling in the mire, 

 The Puppy howl'd, and bleeding lay ; 

 The Pad in peace pursued his way. 



A Shepherd's Dog, who saw the deed, 

 Detesting the vexatious breed, 

 Bespoke him thus : When coxcombs prate, 

 They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate ; 



64 



