What the Pug Knew
BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

 

            THE Pug sat up on the cabinet

            With his short nose in the air;

            He was only a pug of porcelain

            With goggle eyes and a stare.

            His legs were short with a strong incline

            To be bandy at the knees,

            But he wore the lofty air of a pug

            Who took the world at his ease

            And that Porcelain Pug on the cabinet had a look which your soul might freeze.

            He looked to neither the right nor left,

            That being his scornful way,

            But his goggle eyes were never closed

            Either by night or day.

            And what he saw, he saw, 'twas said,

            And what he knew, he knew,

            And what he might have said if he chose

            Might please neither me nor you,

            For that Porcelain Pug on the cabinet had an eye to pierce you through.

            His mistress -- (and he often gave

            A porcelain sniff at that,

            As on his Chinese pedestal

            Unflinchingly he sat) --

            His mistress he'd known far too long

            To be the least deceived

            By the tricks and airs and graces

            In which some folks believed,

            For he could have told -- that Porcelain Pug -- what their spirits might have grieved.

            And he knew stern duty called on him,

            With his bandy legs and stare,

            To lead her in the path of Right,

            And try to keep her there.

            Which was quite as much as any one

            From a porcelain pug could ask,

            And, if the simple truth were told,

            Was rather a thankless task.

            "Don't ogle me," said the Porcelain Pug. "I could your tricks unmask."

            He was neither moved by smiles nor tears,

            And he did not care a rush,

            When she dropped her eyes with gentle sighs

            And even got up a blush.

            "Let those take that who like," he said,

            "It doesn't work with me."

            Which was really disappointing,

            Besides being bold and free,

            But that Porcelain Pug on the cabinet had no sentiment -- not he.

            And when she appeared most sweetly meek

            And innocent of guile,

            And wore a simple artless gown

            And a soft engaging smile,

            He glared with both his goggle eyes

            And his bandy legs outspread,

            And sniffed his fiercest porcelain sniff,

            Though never a word he said,

            And before that Pug on the cabinet her air ingenuous fled.

            For his glance insinuated that

            She was not so wise or fair

            As she would have the world believe,

            Which was a statement bare,

            And one to which she did object,

            Although she felt it true,

            And loathed that Pug on the cabinet,

            In that so much he knew,

            And what was worse, that he did insist that he knew she knew it too.

            And many a silent tiff they had,

            While he held aloft his head;

            "Leave me alone," said she to him.

            "Behave yourself," he said.

            And when, her best effects prepared,

            She tried her nicest scenes,

            This porcelain scorn seemed erst to say

            "Tell that to the Marines" --

            If a Porcelain Pug on a cabinet looks only what he means.

           

            "I'm mistress here," she would oft remark;

            But, his short nose in the air,

            The sole response he deigned to give

            Was his usual goggle stare.

            And when she strove to jeer him down

            And pretended she did not care

            That he'd found her out with her flimsy ways,

            And had bid the world beware,

            "Pooh, you're only a Porcelain Pug," she said, "with goggle eyes and a stare."

            But in the midst of her flippant scoff,

            She'd falter 'neath his gaze,

            And now and then -- at intervals --

            Resolved to mend her ways.

            But why she should care for a staring pug,

            Short-nosed, short-legged, and fat,

            Is a problem the solution

            Of which one can't get at,

            And as to a guilty conscience -- what have pugs to do with that --

            Even the sharpest Porcelain Pug that e'er on a cabinet sat?