Every Dog Has His Night

The drawing room in his house is filled with animals. Animals cast in bronze, steel and brass. Trained to remain quiet, they turned to quite a noisy racket last night. It was the turn of the dogs yesterday. One's bark sparks off the rest. Restless, on hearing that, the foxes begin to howl. The brass lion rose up to roar. Roar's the word in the textbook; tried, but having caught a cold, forsook returned to the cave itself. When the singers were settled after the symphony I too dozed, but couldn't bark. So that's all for now, isn't it enough.