Bagheera gave him half a dozen love-taps from a panther s point of
view (they would hardly have waked one of his own cubs), but for a
seven-year-old boy they amounted to as severe a beating as you could
wish to avoid. When it was all over Mowgli sneezed, and picked himself
up without a word.
Now, said Bagheera, jump on my back, Little Brother, and we will go
home.
One of the beauties of Jungle Law is that punishment settles all scores.
There is no nagging afterward.
Mowgli laid his head down on Bagheera s back and slept so deeply that he
never waked when he was put down in the home-cave.
Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don t you envy our pranceful bands?
Don t you wish you had extra hands?
Wouldn t you like if your tails were--so--
Curved in the shape of a Cupid s bow?
Now you re angry, but--never mind,
_Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!_
Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete, in a minute or two--
Something noble and wise and good,
Done by merely wishing we could.
We ve forgotten, but--never mind,
_Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!_
All the talk we ever have heard
Uttered by bat or beast or bird--
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