My first belongs to an ancient race;
They say his pedigree he can trace
To the time of the ark, and before;
But this I know, though his family tree
Be spread as wide as the sounding sea,
He was _not_ a companion of Noah.
My next in death plays a cruel part,
And yet 'tis dear to a woman's heart,
And sets her pulse beating high.
Of all sizes and shapes, it can fly or bound;
When most 'tis inflated it trails on the ground;
When base, then it soars in the sky.
My whole is extracted from earth and from sea;
Compounded with care, from obstacles free,
'Tis dear to the Yankee, I own.
'Tis famous in song, and famous in story,
And yet 'tis indebted for most of its glory
To the time when 'twas taken alone.
[Illustration: PUSSY AT A DISADVANTAGE.--"WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO COME
IN?"]