Memoir of a Brother. T. HUGHES.
* * * * *
THE CHAMELEON.
Oft has
it been my lot to mark
A proud,
conceited, talking spark,
With eyes
that hardly served at most
To guard
their master ’gainst a post:
Yet round
the world the blade has been
To see whatever
can be seen.
Returning
from his finished tour,
Grown ten
times perter than before.
Whatever
word you chance to drop,
The travelled
fool your mouth will stop:
“Sir,
if my judgment you’ll allow—
I’ve
seen—and sure I ought to know.”
So begs
you’d pay a due submission
And acquiesce
in his decision.
Two travellers
of such a cast,
As o’er
Arabia’s wilds they passed,
And on their
way in friendly chat,
Now talked
of this, and now of that:
Discoursed
a while, ’mongst other matter,
Of the chameleon’s
form and nature.
“A
stranger animal,” cries one,
“Sure
never lived beneath the sun;
A lizard’s
body, lean and long,
A fish’s
head, a serpent’s tongue,
Its foot
with triple claw disjoined;
And what
a length of tail behind!
How slow
its pace! And then its hue—
Who ever
saw so fine a blue?”—
“Hold
there,” the other quick replies,
“’Tis
green; I saw it with these eyes
As late
with open mouth it lay,
And warmed
it in the sunny ray;
Stretched
at its ease the beast I viewed,
And saw
it eat the air for food.”
“I’ve
seen it, sir, as well as you,
And must
again affirm it blue:
At leisure
I the beast surveyed
Extended
in the cooling shade.”
“’Tis
green, ’tis green, sir, I assure you.”
“Green!”
cried the other in a fury:
“Why,
do you think I’ve lost my eyes?”
“’Twere
no great loss,” the friend replies,
“For
if they always serve you thus,
You’ll
find them of but little use.”
So high
at last the contest rose,
From words
they almost came to blows,
When luckily
came by a third:
To him the
question they referred,
And begged
he’d tell them if he knew,
Whether
the thing was green or blue?
“Sirs,”
cries the umpire, “cease your pother,