Too true. They had heard the duck's dreadful appeal--
A cat with nine tails! why, the thought made them squeal.
And they ran for their holes, with poor Gluck, neck and heel.
But whether he lived,
Or whether he died,
Or whether the rats
Managed safely to hide,
Or whether his parents e'er saw him again,
Or whether Miss Gung always waited in vain,
'Neath her lily-pads green, for a lover, or no,
Are things that belong
To the rest of my song
Of the frog who wouldn't a-wooing go.