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Whát !” said th' ángels, “such a big ball
Júst to give light to a little one!
That 's bad mánagement and you know too
You had plenty of light without it.”

“Nót quite plénty,” said God snáppish, “Fór the light I made the first day, Álthough good, was rather scánty, Scárce enough for me to work by.

And besides how wás it possible
If I had not made the big ball
To have given the líttle one seasons,
Days and years and nights and mornings ?

“Só you see there was nothing for it
Bút to fix the little ball steady,
And about it sét the big one
Tópsy-turvying ás you here see.”

“It 's the big ball we see steady,
And the little one roúnd it whírling,"
Said the ángels, by the great light
Dázzled, and their eyebrows shading:

“Nóne of yoúr impertinence,” said God
Growing more vexed every moment;
“I know that as well as you do,
Bút I don't choose you should say it.

“I have set the big ball steady
And the líttle one spinning round it,
Bút I 've told you júst the opposite
And the opposite you must swear to."

“Ánything you say we 'll swear to,"
Said the ángels húmbly bówing;
“Háve you ánything more to show us ?
Wé 're so fond of exhibitions."

“Yés," said Gód, “what was deficient
Ín the lighting of the little ball,
With this pretty moón I 've made up
Ảnd these little twinkling stárs here."

“Wásn't the big ball big enoúgh?” said
With simplícitý the ángels:
Couldn't, without a miracle,” said God,
“Shine at once on back and front side."

“There you 're quite right," said the angels,
“And we think you show your wisdom
În not squảndering miracles on those
Whó beliéve your word without them.

“Bút do téll us why you 've só far
From your little ball put your little stars;
One would think they didn't belong to it,
Scárce one in a thoúsand shines on it.”

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“ To be sure I could have placed them
Só much nearer,” said God smiling,
« Thát the little ball would have been as
Wéll lit with some millions féwer;

“Bút I 'd like to know of whát use
Tó th' omnipotent such economy
Cán't I make a million million stars
Quíte as easily as one star?”

“Right again,” said th’ ángels, “thére can Bé no manner of doubt aboút it." “Thát 's all now," said Gód; “tomorrow Cóme again and ye shall móre see.”

When the angels cáme the next day
Gód indeéd had not been idle,
And they sáw the little ball swarming
With all kinds of living creatures.

Thére they went in pairs, the creatures,
óf all sizes, shápes and colors,
Stálking, hopping, leáping, climbing,
Crawling, burrowing, swimming, flying,

Squealing, singing, roaring, grúnting, Bárking, bráying, méwing, hówling, Chúckling, gábbling, crowing, quácking, Cáwing, crosking, búazing, hissing.

Súch assembly there has never
From that day down been on earth seen;
From that day down súch a concert
There has never been on earth heard.

Fór there, rámping and their máker
Praising in their várious fashions,
Wére all God's created species,
Áll except the fóssilized ones;

Fór whose absence on that great day
The most likely cause assigned yet,
Ís that théy were quite forgotten
And would not go úninvited.

Bút let that be as it may be,
All th' unfóssilized ones were there
Striving which of them would noisiest
Praise bestów upon their máker.

“Well,” said th' ángels, when they 'd looked on Silently some time and listened; “Well, you súrely háve a stránge taste; Whát did you máke all these queer things for ?”

“Cóme tomorrow and I 'll show you,”
Said God, gleéful his hands rúbbing;
“All you ’ve yét seen 's á mere nothing
Tó what you shall see tomórrow.”

So, when th’ ángels cáme the next day
All tiptoé with expectation,
Ảnd stretched nécks and eyes and ears out
Towards the new world, Gód said to them:

“There he is, my lást and best work;
There he is, the noble creature;
Í told you you should see something;
What do you say now? háve I word kept?”

“Whére, where is he?” said the angels;
“We see nothing but the little ball
With its big ball, moon and little stars
Ánd queer, yelping, cápering kickshaws.”

“I don't wéll know what you mean by Kíckshaws," said God scárcely quite pleased, “Bút amỏng my creatures yỏnder Don't you see one nóbler figure ?

“By his strong, round, tail-less búttocks,
Ảnd his flát claws you may know him
Éven wére he not so like me
That we might pass for twin brothers.”

“Nów we seé him," said the ángels; “Hów is 't possible wé o’erlooked him ? Hé 's indeed your very image Ónly less strong and wise loóking."

“Só I hope the mystery 's cleared up,”
Said God with much sélfcomplácence,
“And you áre no longer púzzled
Whát I 've been about these six days.”

ܙܙ

“Éven th’ Almighty," said the ángels,
“Máy be proud of such chef- doeuvre,
Súch magnificent and crówning
Íssue of a síx days' lábor.”

Hére a deep sigh rént God's bósom,
And a sháde came 6'er God's features:

," he cried, “were yé but honest Ánd no traítor stood amongst ye!

“Ah,

“Thén indeed this were a great work,
Thén indeed I were too háppy;
Áh! it 's too bad, dównright too bad,
Bút I 'll - shall I? yes, I 'll let you;

“Let you disappoint and frét me,
Lét you disconcert my whole plan
Whý of áll my vírtues should I
Leáve unpráctised ónly patience ?

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