The Two Friends

A Spider and a Centipede went out to take a walk; The Centipede said frankly, 'I will listen while you talk, But I may appear distracted, or assume a vacant stare, Because to keep my feet in step requires my constant care.' Said the Spider: 'I appreciate your most peculiar case, And your feet must be quite handy when you want to run a race; But though you gain in some ways, in some other ways you lose; And, of course, my friend, you must be quite extravagant in shoes.' 'Ah! yes. Ah! yes,' a heavy sigh escaped the Centipede; 'And I have other trials, too;--my life is hard indeed! Why, sometimes when I'm very tired, a long, long time it takes To ascertain with certainty which foot it is that aches. 'And when I go to dancing-class on Saturdays at three, I find the First Position very difficult for me. Though I put my best foot foremost, and good time I try to keep, To my chagrin, I often find a foot or two asleep. Athletics I attempted, but, alas! I must admit That every exercise I tried I put my foot in it. I think I'll join a foot-ball team,--as many friends suggest,-- Before I've one foot in the grave and gout in all the rest. But now I'll say good-morning; for, my friend, I have to stop To get my boots blacked neatly at this little boot-black's shop; And, as you may imagine, it will keep me here some time, But, what is worse, I'll have to pay him many a hard-earned dime.' The Spider said good-morning, and pursued his way alone, And as he went he murmured, in a thoughtful undertone: 'I'm a happy little Spider, and I'm very glad indeed, That I was born an octoped and not a centipede!'