Why The Mole Is Blind.

In days gone by, when cows could fly         And goblins rode on bears;      When fairies danced upon the green         And giants moped in lairs,      There lived alone upon a shelf         A tinsie, winsie little elf.           Just when the stars came out at night         And moonbeams filled the earth with light,      Down from his perch this little elf         Would jump and wander by himself.      He wore a pair of little wings         Tied in their place by golden strings.           One day he took a kind of notion         To take a trip upon the ocean.      He combed his hair and washed his face         And put his little wings in place,      Then from his shelf he softly stole         And went to see his friend the mole      Who gave to him a pea-green boat         And guaranteed that it would float.           A funny thing about this boat         'Twas patterned from a ten-pound note.      The little elf was greatly pleased         And laughed until he sneezed and sneezed;      He launched his boat upon the sea         And kicked his little heels in glee.           The mole looked on in glad surprise         (For in those days all moles had eyes.)      He shouted out a loud farewell         As the little row-boat rose and fell.      The elf picked up a golden oar         And soon lost sight of mole and shore.           The elf rowed out for quite a way         And in the waves did sport and play,      Until at length the sun sank low         And then he thought it time to go.      Now just as luck would have it then         A prowling sea gull left his den.           The savage sea gull loudly laughed         To see an elf in such a craft,      And swooping down upon the water         He did a thing he hadn't oughter,      For with his strong and sturdy beak         He caused the boat to spring a leak.           He said he longed for a little change         And the bank-note boat was just in range;      The poor young elf gave one big holler         Just as the sea gull made a swallow      (And this is strange indeed to follow         For a gull himself is just a swallow.)           The faithful mole heard this loud yell         And rushed down to the shore pell-mell.      Alas, alas he was too late         And saw his friend's unhappy fate;      He groaned, and shrieked and tore his fur         And raised an awful din and stir.           The sea gull heard this awful racket         And seized the mole, just like a packet.      He carried him across the seas         To teach the young gulls A B C's.      But the loving mole went blind with rage         And they had to put him in a cage,      And ever since that fatal night         The moles have all been out of sight.