The Two Beavers. A FABLE. By the Rev. Mr. DUCK. 'TWere well, my friend, for human kind, Would ev'ry man his bus'ness mind; In his own orbit always move, Nor blame, nor envy those above. A Beaver, well advanc'd image, By long experience render'd sage, Was skill'd in all the useful arts, And justly deem'd a beast of parts; Which he apply'd (as patriots shou'd) In cultivating publick good. This Beaver on a certain day, A friendly visit went to pay To a young cousin, pert and vain, Who often rov'd about the plain: With ev'ry idle beast conferr'd, Hearing, and telling what he heard. The vagrant youth was gone from home, When th' ancient sage approach'd his dome; Who each apartment view'd with care, But found each wanted much repair. The walls were crack'd, decay'd the doors, The corn lay mouldy on the floors; Thro' gaping crannies rush'd amain The blust'ring winds with snow and rain; The timber all was rotten grown, — In short, the house was tumbling down. The gen'rous beast, by pity sway'd, Griev'd to behold it thus decay'd; And while he mourn'd the tatter'd scene, The master of the lodge came in. The first congratulations o'er, They rest recumbent on the floor; When thus the young conceited beast His thoughts impertinent express'd. I long have been surpriz'd to find, The lion grown so wond'rous kind To one peculiar sort of beasts, While he another sort detests; His royal favour chiefly falls Upon the species of jack-alls; They share the profits of his throne, He smiles on them, and them alone. Mean while the ferret's useful race He scarce admits to see his face; Traduc'd by lies and ill report, They're banish'd from his regal court, And counted, over all the plain, Opposers of the lion's reign. Now I conceiv'd a scheme last night, Would doubtless set this matter right: These parties should unite together; The lion partial be to neither, But let them both his favours share, And both consult in peace and war. This method (were this method try'd) Would spread politick basis wide, And on a bottom broad and strong, Support the social union long — But uncle, uncle, much I fear, Some have abus'd the lion's ear; He listens to the leopard's tongue; That cursed leopard leads him wrong: Were he but banish'd far away — You don't attend to what I say! Why really, couz, the sage rejoin'd, The rain and snow, and driving wind, Beat thro' with such prodigious force, It made me deaf to your discourse. Now couz, were my advice pursu'd, (And sure I mean it for your good) Methinks you should this house repair; Be this your first and chiefest care. Your skill the voice of prudence calls To stop these crannies in the walls, And prop the roof before it falls. If you this needful task perform, You'll make your mansion dry and warm; And we may then converse together, Secure from this tempestuous weather.