THE world is old, the man still talks, at times, of Adam's starboard ox. When any man's profoundly dead, of him it's usually said, by folks on the adjacent blocks, that he's as dead as Adam's ox. And if a stranger you shall see, and you are asked who he may be, you say, "I give it up, old sox; I know him not from Adam's ox." You say the "off ox," all the time, but that won't fit into this rhyme. Oh, famous beast, immortal ox, whose shade still on this footstool walks! No other brute, since time began, no mouse or mule or mole or man, thus effortless has won renown, a fame the ages cannot down! How did you play your bovine game, that you have earned this deathless fame? We hear no word of Adam's hog, of Adam's mule, of Adam's dog; we've no description of his stove, or of the motor car he drove, or of his watch or Sunday hat, or his imported Maltese cat, but his "off ox" has come to stay; we hear it quoted every day. |