THE SQUEALER.

Of course some people are born so bright That no matter what one may say, or write, The theme is old and the lesson is trite, Which is what you may say, as these lines unreel And I mildly suggest it is better to feel Than to squeal.

Everybody knows that? Yes, it's certain they do, Everybody, that is, with exception of two, Of whom I am one and the other is you. But for us the lesson is still remote, Although we commit it and cite it and quote It by rote.

But still when you thrill with the thudding thump From the fist of the fellow you tried to bump And the world looks hard at the swelling lump, There's a strong temptation to open your door And invite the public to hear you roar That you're sore.

And again, tho' 'tis plain as the printed page:— "Keep your hand on the lever and watch the gauge When the fire-pot's full and the boilers rage," How often the steam-pressure grows and grows And before the engineer cares or knows, Up she goes.

So why should you fret if I send you to school Again to consider the sapient rule That Wisdom is Silence and Speech is a Fool. Close up! and a year from to-day you will kneel And thank the good Lord that you knew how to feel And not squeal.