ONCE a hunter met a lion near the hungry critter's lair,
and the way that lion mauled him was decidedly unfair; but the hunter never whimpered
when the surgeons, with their thread, sewed up forty-seven gashes in his mutilated
head; and he showed the scars in triumph, and they gave him pleasant fame, and
he always blessed the lion that had camped upon his frame.
Once that hunter, absent minded, sat upon a hill of ants, and about a million bit him,
and you should have seen him dance! And he used up lots of language of
a deep magenta tint, and aphostrophized the insects in a style unfit to print.
And it's thus with worldly troubles; when the big ones come along, we serenely go to meet
them, feeling valiant, bold and strong, but the weary little worries with their poisoned stings
and smarts, put the lid upon our courage, make us gray, and break our hearts.