APES 
(Whatsoever that may be) 
Not of notoriety. 
Now ! — Ah, infantine Gorilla, 
Every small suburban villa 
With your rising fame will ring ; 
All the sort of folk who bring 
Buns unto the prisoned bear, 
To your cage will come, and stare. 
Buns? Oh, Bartlett, — master sage. 
Autocrat of den and cage ! — 
Nothing will begrudge. I’m sure. 
That may nourish, please, or cure 
His prognathous little pet. 
Half the luxuries you’ll get 
Would leave satiate aud cloyed 
Any hungry “Unemployed.” 
Cakes— and, if you like it. Ale — 
Oh, Gorilla, will not fail ; 
Gunter’s you may sack at will. 
Or, if you prefer to fill 
Otherwise your dainty maw 
Than with sweeties and stickjaw. 
Like the indiscriminate bear. 
You may choose your Bill of Fare. 
Toys? Ah, bring them, baby, quick; 
Will a monkey on a stick 
Touch a sympathetic chord ? 
Well, let’s hope you won’t be bored. 
Baby Ape, by Bartlett’s love. 
And the crowds who’ll stare and shove, 
Long for Afric wild but free. 
And a station “up a tree,” 
Watching, with prehensile thumb. 
For — whatever food may come. 
143 
