A LADY on the lonely shore
Of a dull watering place
Once met a Tigress weeping sore,
Tears streaming down her face.

And knowing well that safety lay
In not betraying fear,
She asked in quite a friendly way,
" What makes you weep, my dear? "

The Tigress brushed a tear aside;
" I want a man! " she wailed.
" A man! they 're scarce! " the lady cried;
" I fear the crop has failed!

There is but one in miles, and oh,
I fear that he is wed! "
The Tigress smiled. " I am, you know,
A man eater, " she said.

" You eat them! " cried the maid, then ceased
In horror and amaze,
Then sat her down to show the beast
The error of her ways.

" Men are so scarce, " she urged, " I fear
There are n't enough to go
Around — now is it right, my dear,
That you should waste them so?

I weep to think of all the men
You 've spoiled ere now, " said she.
" And if you eat the rest, why, then
What will be left for me? "

The hours flew by; she took no rest
Till twilight, when at last
The contrite beast with sobs confessed
Repentance for the past.

" Go, " said the maid, " take my advice;
I know what's best for you;
It's cheap and filling at the price;
Go seek the oyster stew! "

The Tigress lies unto this day
Upon an oyster bed.
The Lady — so the gossips say —
Is shortly to be wed.