Black Beetles in Amber

Unbeautiful is the Piute!

Howe'er bedecked with bravery,

His person is unsavory—

Of soap he's destitute.

He multiplies upon the earth

In spite of all admonishing;

All censure his astonishing

And versatile unworth.

Upon the Reservation wide

We give for his inhabiting

He goes a-jackass rabbiting

To furnish his inside.

The hopper singing in the grass

He seizes with avidity:

He loves its tart acidity,

And gobbles all that pass.

He penetrates the spider's veil,

Industriously pillages

The toads' defenseless villages,

And shadows home the snail.

He lightly runs to earth the quaint

Red worm and, deftly troweling,

He makes it with his boweling

Familiarly acquaint.

He tracks the pine-nut to its lair,

Surrounds it with celerity,

Regards it with asperity—

Smiles, and it isn't there!

I wish he'd open up a grin

Of adequate vivacity

And carrying capacity

To take his Agent in.