So I've been thinking this Winter could do with a good narrative poem for the old lads at Salythingummytron to tell round the fire whilst they're keeping warm...so here it is! So without further babbling an' carrying on an' allsuch rubbish, I present tonight's star, Alec Misthyndyne Futhringshaw!
It was morn, and all was well, in Spring as you'd suppose
That wand'ring laddie buck Alec continued t'wards his home.
He shook both paws, wound both ears and scratched his achy back
And gath'ring his affects he hitched up his old haversack.
On o'er the dales he roamed 'til a breather he required
'Gainst an oak tree lean'd and said, "Corks, I'm rather tired!"
So he sat down once more to rest, reached inside his pack
Brought up candied fruit, and said "Alec, let's have a snack!"
Done eating lunch he laughed, said "Let's have us some sleep;
Not too much now, y'know old lad- only forty winks!"
Thusly under that oak he slept, until the evening
Snoring loudly as he fought great battles in his dreams.
But that's not near the end (the story's not even old!),
Indeed there is much, much more of this grand tale to unfold:
Elsewhere in the land two stoats crept through the swamps so wide
Spears in their paws and swords of steel clinking at their sides.
One stoat looked to the west, the other into the east
Peering here, there and everywhere, as if for somebeast.
They hunted throughout the swamplands, the marshes and mires
'Til the twain of those vermin stoats started they to tire.
Said one unto his chum, "There ain't one beast round this muck;
Let's go search north, Lunkra mate, mayhaps we'll have more luck."
So they went, that pair of stoats, off on their wicked way
Though uninformed that a dozy hare, slept not far away....
That morn Alec awoke, more to his dismay than fright
To find that two nasty stoats had slipped up in the night.
They stole his tuck, and his blade hung on the belt of a stoat
And what was more it was wearing his Grandpa's waistcoat!
That stoat thief prodded Alec chuckling with evil joy
Said Alec, "Watch where you swing that, it isn't a toy;
Rather, it's mine, and so's that splendid old waist-jacket,
Both things passed down to me by old Grandpa Albrickett;
So give them all back, you filthy scum! I say, post haste!"
The vermin exchanged glances and laughed, "That woz first-rate!
Haha! He's a funny hare as well as a dumb un,
He can jest 'til death tied to d'tree so that he cain't run."
All was not well that day as those stoats marched west by south,
In the general direction of the Moss River's mouth.
"Matey, weren't that a delight," sneered the one called Troat.
"Sure, ain't we just the luckiest pair of villain stoats?"
They'd left that brave young hare without a care if you please
A-struggling against the bonds that bound him to that oak tree.
He gave up soon, 'twas no use, the ropes were just too tight,
Though he'd struggled long, quite fierce, and hard with all his might.
He knew he'd be gone soon with no vittles for any length
So began the fight he all the more with his all strength.
The noon hour came decided, 'twas his predicament....!
To die before the eventide--- those ropes just wouldn't rend!
So languishing on his nasty rotten fate,
Began to moan he all the more as that day turned late.
Suddenly that hare was free! and before he knew just how,
A smallish mouse from that tree into the light came out.
"Hullo good chap, I believe that you've just saved my life!"
Replied the mouse, "Aye then 'sgood I had me trusty knife."
Smilingly Alec said, "Perhaps you've got some tuck,
"Coz this hare could use a blinkin' lot, m'laddie buck!"
With a flourish and grin the mouse produced a sack,
"Come on bucko, an' let's see how yer fares with that."
Without a bit of grace that hare fell upon the food,
With an "mmff-snch-scrum" and an emphatic "Bally good!"
So you see, don't you, everything is quite alright!
But you say, "There wasn't even a single blinkin' fight!"
An' what's that I hear? "This can't be The End! 'Twould be so very rude,
"...to end it all right here...I say! Perhaps it's to be continued...?"