I Wasted My Substance, I

Now India Is A Place Beyond All Others Where One Must Not Take Things Too Seriously—the Midday Sun Always Excepted.

The Cat Will Keep His Side Of The Bargain. He Will Kill Mice, And He Will Be Kind To Babies When He Is In The House, Just So Long As They Do Not Pull His Tail Too Hard. But When He Has Done That, And Between Times, And When The Moon Gets Up And Night Comes, He Is The Cat That Walks By Himself, And All Places Are Alike To Him. Then He Goes Out To The Wet Wild Woods Or Up On The Wet Wild Trees Or On The Wet Wild Roofs, Waving His Wild Tail And Walking By His Wild Lone.

When A Crew And A Captain Understand Each Other To The Core, It Takes A Gale, And More Than A Gale, To Put Their Ship Ashore.

You Must Learn To Forgive A Man When He's In Love. He's Always A Nuisance.

The Beasts Are Very Wise, Their Mouths Are Clean Of Lies, They Talk One To The Other, Bullock To Bullock Brothers Resting After Their Labors, Each In Stall With His Neighbors, But Man With Goad And Whip, Breaks Up Their Fellowship, Shouts In Their Silky Ears Filling Their Soul With Fears. When He Has Plowed The Land, He Says: "they Understand." But The Beasts In Stall Together, Freed From The Yoke And Tether, Say As The Torn Flank Smoke: "nay, 'twas The Whip That Spoke."