Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/The Lost Pet


 * Oh, list! while I tell
 * Of the fate that befell
 * A pet that was dear unto me, —
 * A black-and-tan pup.
 * Oh! bitter the cup
 * Prepared by that " Heathen Chinee "
 * For me,
 * The friend of those venders of tea.


 * This young black-and-tan
 * Away from me ran, —
 * An act which I did not foresee;
 * And, though I did seek
 * For over a week
 * To find him, it was not to be.
 * You'll see,
 * 'Twas the work of that sinful Chinee.


 * His name was Ah-Bet,
 * (Not the name of my pet,
 * But of him of Chinese pedigree;)
 * And he kept a small shop,
 * And had the best "chop"
 * Of tit-bits from over the sea,
 * That he
 * Obtained from his far-famed patrie.


 * He had "chow-chow," that tickles
 * The lover of pickles,
 * Though with me it did never agree;
 * And things filled with spice,
 * Which may have been mice,—
 * They looked enough like them, — dear me!
 * To see
 * Such food in the "land of the free."


 * One day I'd a friend
 * Who was coming to spend
 * The day, and take dinner with me:
 * So I went to Ah-Bet,
 * And told him to get
 * A rabbit "and fixin's;" and he
 * Said "Oui,"
 * In a manner quite Frenchy to see.


 * The clock had struck one:
 * The dinner was done,
 * And served up with steaming Bohea.
 * "'Tis excellent fare,
 * This rabbit, or hare,:

Whichever it may be," said he,
 * (Mon ami:)
 * "You've a prize in that Heathen Chinee."


 * Just then in the dish
 * I noticed him fish
 * For something he thought he could see,
 * That didn't look right;
 * And brought to the light
 * A tag, with inscription, " Toby."
 * Ah me!
 * 'Twas that of my lost favori!