“Will you sleep upon my pillow?” said the Mayor to the red;
“’Tis the prettiest little pillow that ever was a bed.
The way onto my pillow is off the window sill.”
(And I have many sharpened claws to show when you are still.)
“O yes, yes,” said the Nemo kit, “to ask me is a thrill,
For who upon your pillow sleeps shan’t shiver on that sill!”
“I’m sure you must be weary, Neemp, from crawling
up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” Socks whispered
with a sigh.
“The radiator’s warmth will spread, as cozy as
a lair,
And if you’d like to sleep a while, I happily
will share.”
“O yes, yes,” said our Nemo dear, “for I have
always thought
That you would give me all I want (except when
we have fought).”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly red-haired
boy,
Hearing Socks’ wily flattering mews, came crawling
up for joy.
With drooping eyes, he stretched his back, his
hind end in the air,
Thinking only of that soft white bed. (How kind
of Socks, and fair!)
Thinking only of his coming nap. Poor foolish
thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Mayor, and sprang upon
him, fast.
Socks dug his claws in very deep. And Nemo gave
a scream!
Red flew right off that pillow; and he never
tried again.
And now, dear Prego people, who may this story
read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you
ne’er give heed;
Remember this smart Birmie (you all know him
– he rocks!),
And take a lesson from this tale of Neempie and
smart Socks.
Patsy M. in VA
A lass you lack. You lack a lass.
Since you may not a princess wed,
Some bling is better than being dead.
Throughout this glorious Prego land,
We see you are a Princeling grand.
Your bling becomes you, royal lad.
Behave yourself! And be not bad.
We all bow down, your highness dear,
So lift your head, and have good cheer.
Perhaps some diamonds next you'll wear.
But always, you remain most fair.
Love from your loyal, unworthy subject,
Serf Patsy
