Sir Harry the Muse Offers a Service to the Warriors of
Redwall
“The owl bowed gravely and blinked his enormous eyes.
Matthias bowed courteously in return. “good morning, Sir Harry. I am Matthias,
Warrior of Redwall.” When asked why he was called the Muse, Sir Harry “struck
an artistic stance” and quipped the following poem:
‘Why pray, do you suppose?
I’m master of poetry and prose,
No equal have I in field and wood,
No creature in smidgeon, a fraction as good.
And if you need a poet, why, here’s one to choose,
This Owl…Sir Harry the Muse.”
Although the owl was applauded, it was mentioned that the
“Warriors” were not looking for a poet at this moment.
“The owl blinked in a dignified manner and exclaimed:”
‘Then tell me what you need.
Someone to perform a deed?
A mummer perhaps, or a singer of songs?
A champion, righter of wrongs?
A companion, maybe, to stand at your side?
For my talents are varied and wide.’
After eating a shrew cake and being promised several more,
Sir Harry the Muse flies off the top of the cliff and lets down the rope latter
that had been hauled up by the slavers.
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