Through the leg-tube Plish pursues him,
Plum makes sure he shall not lose him.

Nip! the mousey with his tooth
Stings the smeller of the youth.

Plish essays to pull him clear;

Nip! the plague's on Plish's ear.

See! they run heels over head,
Into neighbor's garden-bed.

Kritze-kratze! what will be—
Come, sweet flower-plot, of thee?
At that moment Madam Mieding,
With fresh oil, her lamp is feeding;

And her heart comes near to breaking,
With those pests her garden wrecking.

Indignation lends her wings,
And the oil-can, too, she brings.

Now, with mingling joy and wrath,
She gives each a shower-bath—
First to Plish and then to Plum,
Shower-bath of petroleum!

Of the effect that might be wrought,
Madam Mieding had not thought.

But what presently took place,
Right before this lady's face,
Made her shut her eyes, so dazed
That she smiled like one half crazed,—

Drew a heavy sigh, and soon
Gasped and sank down in a swoon.

Paul and Peter, hard and cool,
Heed not much the Golden Rule.
Suffering, stretched beside the way
Never once disturbs their play.

"Bad enough!" says Sly; "he! he!
Shocking bad! but not for me!"

Breeches short and long surtout,
Crooked nose and cane to suit,
Gray of soul and black of eye,
Hat slouched back, expression sly—

Such is old Sol Shuffleshins;
How complacently he grins!

Fittig's door he's passing now;
Hark! a furious, row-wow-wow!

Scarcely has the echo gone,
When the following scene comes on.

Turn and twist him as he will,
Plish and Plum stick to him still;

Underneath his long surtout
Tugs and tears each crazy brute.

Shall that happen twice? not quite!
Mind shall triumph over might!

Presto! What strange dog is there,
Hat in mouth? the young ones stare.

What queer quadruped can he,
Backing toward the doorway, be?
Mrs. Fittig hears the clatter,
Comes to see what is the matter.

Soft as on a mossy bank,
In her lap Sol backward sank.

Fittig also came in view.
"Ow!" cried Sol, "I'm torn in two!
Herr von Fittig pays me for 't,
Or I'll carry it to court!"