The Burglar
There was a little mongrel pup— A foolish pup was he; He boasted that when he grew up, A burglar he would be! That very night he started, too: The pantry glass was wide— He somehow squeezed and twisted through, And found himself inside. A splendid jar marked “StrawberryBest,” In front of him did stand; Said he, “Ho! Ho! I never guessed That burgling was so grand!”
He pulled the lid off in a trice, He gobbled half—“Oh, my!” He thought, “This jam—it isn’t nice— How odd! I wonder why?” “Oh, dear! Oil, dear! It’s burning hot! It’s yellow, too, I see; Good gracious me, what have I got?” He shrieked. in misery. And there he sat, witli streaming tears, Upon the pantry shelf: The jam was mustard, it appears. And he had burnt himself. And now he thinks some quiet trade Is best for dogs to follow; Plain honesty, I’ve heard it said, Will beat jam-burgling hollow.
—Original, by Lofty (15), Wellington.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DOM19370717.2.199.18
Bibliographic details
Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 249, 17 July 1937, Page 9 (Supplement)
Word Count
165The Burglar Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 249, 17 July 1937, Page 9 (Supplement)
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