The First Problem.

Auckland Star, Volume VI, Issue 1625, 1 May 1875, Page 6 (Supplement)

The First Problem.

i THE SOLILOQUY OP A RATIONALISTIC CHICKEN, ADDRESSED TO HIS EGGSHELL.

Most strange ! Most queer; although most excellent a change! Shade? of the prison-house, ye disappear ! My fettered thoughts have won a wider range,

And, like my legs, are free ; No longer huddled up so pitiably ; Free now to pry and probe, and peep and peer,

And make these mysteries out. Shall a free-thinking chicken live in doubt ? For now in doubt undoubtedly lam : This problem's very heavy on my mind, And I'm not one to either shirk or sham : I won't be blinded, and I won't be blind.

Now, let me see : First, I would know how did I get in there 1 Then, where was I of yore ? Besides, why didn't I get out before ? Dear me! Here are three puzzles (out of plenty more) Enough to give me pip upon the brain! But let me think agaia. How do I know I ever was inside ? Now I reflect, it is, I do maintain, Less than my reafon, and beneath my pride, I To think that I could dwell !In such a paltry, inieerab.e cell As that old shell. Of course I couldn't! How could Jhave lain, Body, and beak, and feathers, legs and wings, And my deep heart's sublime imaginings, In there ? I meet the notion with profound disdain; It's quite incredible ; Bince I declare (And I'm a chicken you can't deceive) What I can't understand I won't believe. Where did I come irom, then ? Ah ! where, indeed ? This is a riddle monstrous hard to read. I bave it now ! Why, of course, All things moulded by some plastio force Out of some atoms somewhere up in space, Fortuitously concurrent, anyhow. There now! That's plain as is the beak upon my face. What's that I hear ? My mother cackling at me ! Just her way, So prejudiced and ignorant / say ; So far behind the wisdom of the day. What's old I can't revere. Hark at her.—"You're a silly chick, my dear, That's quite as plain, ulack, As is the pieco of sholl upon your back!" How bigoted—upon my back indeed; I don't believe it's there, For I can't see it; and Ido declare, For all her fond d.-ceivin', What I can't see I never will believe in !