A Derby Legend
MILY JANE was a nursery maid—
James was a bold Life Guard,
And John was constable, poorly paid
(And I am a doggerel bard).
A very good girl was Emily Jane,
Jimmy was good and true,
And John was a very good man in the main
(And I am a good man, too).
Rivals for Emmie were Johnny and James,
Though Emily liked them both;
She couldn't tell which had the strongest claims
(And I couldn't take my oath).
But sooner or later you're certain to find
Your sentiments can't lie hid—
Jane thought it was time that she made up her mind
(And I think it was time she did).
Said Jane, with a smirk and a blush on her face,
"I'll promise to wed the boy
Who takes me to-morrow to Epsom Race!"
(Which I would have done, with joy).
From Johnny escaped an expression of pain,
But Jimmy said, "Done with you!
I'll take you with pleasure, my Emily Jane!"
(And I would have said so too).
Johnny lay on the ground, and he roared like mad
(For Johnny was sore perplexed),
And he kicked very hard at a very small lad
(Which I often do, when vexed).
For John was on duty next day with the Force,
To punish all Epsom crimes;
Some people will cross when they're clearing the course
(I do it myself, sometimes).
* * * * * *
The Derby Day sun glittered gaily on cads,
On maidens with gamboge hair,
On sharpers and pickpockets, swindlers and pads
(For I, with my harp, was there).
And Jimmy went down with his Jane that day
And John by the collar or nape
Seized everybody who came in his way
(And I had a narrow escape).
He noticed his Emily Jane with Jim,
And envied the well made elf;
And people remarked that he muttered "Oh, dim!"
(I often say "dim!" myself).
John dogged them all day, without asking their leaves;
For his sergeant he told, aside,
That Jimmy and Jane were notorious thieves
(And I think he was justified).
But James wouldn't dream of abstracting a fork,
And Jenny would blush with shame
At stealing so much as a bottle or cork
(A bottle I think fair game).
But, ah! there's another more serious crime!
They wickedly strayed upon
The course, at a critical moment of time
(I pointed them out to John).
The crusher came down on the pair in a crack—
And then, with a demon smile,
Let Jenny cross over, but sent Jimmy back
(I played on my harp the while).
Stern Johnny their agony loud derides
With a very triumphant sneer—
They weep and they wail from the opposite sides
(And I shed a silent tear).
And Jenny is crying away like mad,
And Jimmy is swearing hard;
And Johnny is looking uncommonly glad
(And I am a doggerel bard).
But Jimmy he ventured on crossing again
The scenes of our Isthmian Games—
John caught him and collared him, giving him pain
(I felt very much for James).
John led him away with a victor's hand,
And Jimmy was shortly seen
In the station-house under the grand Grand Stand
(As many a time I've been).
And Jimmy, bad boy, was imprisoned for life,
Though Emily pleaded hard;
And Johnny had Emily Jane to wife
(And I am a doggerel bard).
[W.S. Gilbert
ELLEN M'JONES ABERDEEN
ACPHAIRSON CLONGLOCKETTY ANGUS M'CLAN
Was the son of an elderly laboring man,
You've guessed him a Scotchman, shrewd reader, at sight,
And p'raps altogether, shrewd reader, you're right.
From the bonnie blue Forth to the hills of Deeside,
Round by Dingwall and Wrath to the mouth of the Clyde,
There wasn't a child or woman or man
Who could pipe with Clonglocketty Angus M'Clan.
No other could wake such detestable groans,
With reed and with chanter—with bag and with drones:
All day and all night he delighted the chiels
With sniggering pibrochs and jiggety reels.
He'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground,
And the neighboring maidens would gather around
To list to his pipes and to gaze in his een,
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
All loved their M'Clan, save a Sassenach brute,
Who came to the Highlands to fish and to shoot!
He dressed himself up in a Highlander way,
Though his name it was Pattison Corby Torbay.
Torbay had incurred a good deal of expense
To make him a Scotchman in every sense:
But this is a matter, you'll readily own,
That isn't a question of tailors alone.
A Sassenach chief may be bonily built,
He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt;
Stick a skean in his hose—wear an acre of stripes—
But he cannot assume an affection for pipes.
Clonglocketty's pipings all night and all day
Quite frenzied poor Pattison Corby Torbay;
The girls were amused at his singular spleen,
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
"Macphairson Clonglocketty Angus, my lad,
With pibrochs and reels you are driving me mad;
If you really must play on that cursed affair,
My goodness! play something resembling an air."
Boiled over the blood of Macphairson M'Clan—
The clan of Clonglocketty rose as one man;
For all were enraged at the insult, I ween—
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
"Let's show," said M'Clan, "to this Sassenach loon
That the bagpipes can play him a regular tune.
Let's see," said M'Clan, as he thoughtfully sat,
"'In My Cottage' is easy—I'll practice at that."
He blew at his "Cottage," and blew with a will,
For a year, seven months, and a fortnight until
(You'll hardly believe it) M'Clan, I declare,
Elicited something resembling an air.
It was wild—it was fitful—as wild as the breeze—
It wandered about into several keys;
It was jerky, spasmodic, and harsh, I'm aware,
But still it distinctly suggested an air.
The Sassenach screamed and the Sassenach danced,
He shrieked in his agony—bellowed and pranced;
And the maidens who gathered rejoiced at the scene,
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
"Hech gather, hech gather, hech gather around;
And fill a' yer lugs wi' the exquisite sound,
An air frae the bagpipes—beat that if ye can!
Hurrah for Clonglocketty Angus M'Clan!"
The fame of his piping spread over the land;
Respectable widows proposed for his hand,
And maidens came flocking to sit on the green—
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
One morning the fidgety Sassenach swore
He'd stand it no longer—he drew his claymore,
And (this was, I think, in extremely bad taste),
Divided Clonglocketty close to the waist.
Oh! loud were the wailings for Angus M'Clan—
Oh! deep was the grief for that excellent man—
The maids stood aghast at the horrible scene,
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
It sorrowed poor Pattison Corby Torbay
To find them "take on" in this serious way.
He pitied the poor little fluttering birds,
And solaced their souls with the following words:—
"Oh, maidens," said Pattison, touching his hat,
"Don't snivel, my dears, for a fellow like that;
Observe, I'm a very superior man,
A much better fellow than Angus M'Clan."
They smiled when he winked and addressed them as "dears,"
And they all of them vowed, as they dried up their tears,
A pleasanter gentleman never was seen—
Especially Ellen M'Jones Aberdeen.
[W.S. Gilbert
THE SYCOPHANTIC FOX AND THE GULLIBLE RAVEN
RAVEN sat upon a tree,
And not a word he spoke, for
His beak contained a bit of Brie,
Or, maybe, it was Roquefort:
We'll make it any kind you please,
At all events, it was a cheese.
Beneath the tree's umbrageous limb
A hungry fox sat smiling;
He saw the raven watching him,
And spoke in words beguiling.
"J'admire," said he "ton beau plumage,"
(The which was simply persiflage.)
Two things there are, no doubt you know,
To which a fox is used;
A rooster that is bound to crow,
A crow that's bound to roost,
And whichsoever he espies
He tells the most unblushing lies.
"Sweet fowl," he said, "I understand
You're more than merely natty,
I hear you sing to beat the band
And Adelina Patti.
Pray render with your liquid tongue
A bit from 'Götterdämmerung.'"
This subtle speech was aimed to please
The crow, and it succeeded:
He thought no bird in all the trees
Could sing as well as he did.
In flattery completely doused
He gave the "Jewel Song" from "Faust."
But gravitation's law, of course,
As Isaac Newton showed it,
Exerted on the cheese its force.
And elsewhere soon bestowed it,
In fact, there is no need to tell
What happened when to earth it fell.
I wish to add that when the bird
Took in the situation
He said one brief, emphatic word,
Unfit for publication.
The fox was greatly startled, but
He only sighed and answered "Tut."
The Moral is: A fox is bound
To be a shameless sinner.
And also: When the cheese comes round
You know it's after dinner.
But (what is only known to few)
The fox is after dinner, too.
[Guy Wetmore Carryl
RED RIDINGHOOD
OST worthy of praise were the virtuous ways
Of Little Red Riding Hood's ma,
And no one was ever more cautious and clever
Than Little Red Riding Hood's pa.
They never misled, for they meant what they said,
And frequently said what they meant:
They were careful to show her the way she should go,
And the way that they showed her, she went.
For obedience she was effusively thanked,
And for anything else she was carefully spanked.
It thus isn't strange that Red Riding Hood's range
Of virtues so steadily grew,
That soon she won prizes of different sizes,
And golden enconiums, too.
As a general rule she was head of her school,
And at six was so notably smart
That they gave her a check for reciting The Wreck
Of the Hesperus wholly by heart.
And you all will applaud her the more, I am sure,
When I add that the money she gave to the poor.
At eleven this lass had a Sunday-school class,
At twelve wrote a volume of verse,
At fourteen was yearning for glory, and learning
To be a professional nurse.
To a glorious height the young paragon might
Have climbed, if not nipped in the bud,
But the following year struck her smiling career
With a dull and a sickening thud!
(I have shad a great tear at the thought of her pain,
And must copy my manuscript over again!)
Not dreaming of harm, one day on her arm
A basket she hung. It was filled
With drinks made of spices, and jellies, and ices,
And chicken-wings, carefully grilled,
And a savory stew, and a novel or two
She persuaded a neighbor to loan,
And a Japanese fan, and a hot water-can.
And a bottle of eau de cologne,
And the rest of the things that your family fill
Your room with whenever you chance to be ill.
She expected to find her decrepit but kind
Old grandmother waiting her call,
Exceedingly ill. Oh, that face on the pillow
Did not look familiar at all!
With a whitening cheek she started to speak,
But her peril she instantly saw:
Her grandma had fled and she'd tackled instead
Four merciless paws and a maw!
When the neighbors came running the wolf to subdue
He was licking his chops—and Red Riding Hood's, too!
At this horrible tale some readers will pale,
And others with horror grow dumb,
And yet it was better, I fear, he should get her:—
Just think what she might have become!
For an infant so keen might in future have been
A woman of awful renown,
Who carried on fights for her feminine rights,
As the Mare of an Arkansas town,
Or she might have continued the sin of her 'teens
And come to write verse for the Big Magazines!
The Moral
The Moral: There's nothing much glummer
Than children whose talents appal.
One much prefers those that are dumber,
And as for the paragons small—
If a swallow cannot make a summer.
It can bring on a summary fall!
[Guy Wetmore Carryl
A NAUTICAL BALLAD
CAPITAL ship for an ocean trip,
Was the "Walloping Window-blind";
No gale that blew dismayed her crew
Or troubled the captain's mind.
The man at the wheel was taught to feel
Contempt for the wildest blow,
And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared,
That he'd been in his bunk below.
"The boatswain's mate was very sedate,
Yet fond of amusement, too;
And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch,
While the captain tickled the crew.
And the gunner we had was apparently mad,
For he sat on the after rail,
And fired salutes with the captain's boots,
In the teeth of the booming gale.
"The captain sat in a commodore's hat
And dined in a royal way
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
And gummery bread each day.
But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such;
For the diet he gave the crew
Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns
Prepared with sugar and glue.
"All nautical pride we laid aside,
And we cast the vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles,
And the Rumbletumbunders roar.
And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge
And shot at the whistling bee;
And the cinnamon-bats wore water-proof hats
As they danced in the sounding sea.
"On rubgub bark, from dawn to dark,
We fed, till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk,—when a Chinese junk
Came by from the torriby zone.
She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care,
And we cheerily put to sea;
And we left the crew of the junk to chew
The bark of the rubgub tree."
[Charles E. Carryl
THE PLAINT OF THE CAMEL
ANARY-BIRDS feed on sugar and seed,
Parrots have crackers to crunch:
And, as for the poodles, they tell me the noodles
Have chickens and cream for their lunch.
But there's never a question
About MY digestion—
Anything does for me!
"Cats, you're aware, can repose in a chair,
Chickens can roost upon rails;
Puppies are able to sleep in a stable,
And oysters can slumber in pails.
But no one supposes
A poor Camel dozes—
Any place does for me!
"Lambs are enclosed where it's never exposed,
Coops are constructed for hens:
Kittens are treated to houses well heated,
And pigs are protected by pens.
But a Camel comes handy
Wherever it's sandy—
Anywhere does for me!
"People would laugh if you rode a giraffe,
Or mounted the back of an ox;
It's nobody's habit to ride on a rabbit,
Or try to bestraddle a fox.
But as for a Camel, he's
Ridden by families—
Any load does for me!
"A snake is as round as a hole in the ground,
And weasels are wavy and sleek;
And no alligator could ever be straighter
Than lizards that live in a creek,
But a Camel's all lumpy
And bumpy and humpy—
Any shape does for me!"
[Charles E. Carryl
CHILD'S NATURAL HISTORY
Geese
V-ER-Y child who has the use
Of his sen-ses knows a goose.
Sees them un-der-neath the tree
Gath-er round the goose-girl's knee,
While she reads them by the hour
From the works of Scho-pen-hau-er.
How pa-tient-ly the geese at-tend!
But do they re-al-ly com-pre-hend
What Scho-pen-hau-er's driving at?
Oh, not at all; but what of that?
Nei-ther do I; nei-ther does she;
And, for that matter, nor does he.
A Seal
See, children, the Furbearing Seal;
Ob-serve his mis-di-rect-ed zeal;
He dines with most ab-ste-mi-ous care
On Fish, Ice Water and Fresh Air
A-void-ing cond-i-ments or spice
For fear his fur should not be nice
And fine and soft and smooth and meet
For Broad-way or for Re-gent Street,
And yet some-how I often feel
(Though for the kind Fur-bear-ing Seal
I harbor a Re-spect Pro-found)
He runs Fur-bear-ance in the ground.
The Ant
My child, ob-serve the use-ful Ant,
How hard she works each day.
She works as hard as ad-a-mant
(That's very hard, they say).
She has no time to gall-i-vant;
She has no time to play.
Let Fido chase his tail all day;
Let Kitty play at tag;
She has no time to throw away,
She has no tail to wag;
She scurries round from morn till night;
She nev-er nev-er sleeps;
She seiz-es ev-ery-thing in sight,
She drags it home with all her might,
And all she takes she keeps.
The Yak
This is the Yak, so negligee;
His coif-fure's like a stack of hay;
He lives so far from Any-where,
I fear the Yak neglects his hair.
And thinks, since there is none to see,
What mat-ter how un-kempt he be:
How would he feel if he but knew
That in this Picture-book I drew
His Phys-i-og-no-my un-shorn,
For children to de-ride and scorn?
[Oliver Herford
[From "A Child's Primer of Natural History." Copyright, 1899, by Oliver Herford, Chas. Scribner's Sons, Publishers]
ALPHABET OF CELEBRITIES
IS for Edison, making believe
He's invented a clever contrivance for Eve,
Who complained that she never could laugh in her sleeve.
O is for Oliver, casting aspersion
On Omar, that awfully dissolute Persian,
Though secretly longing to join the diversion.
R's Rubenstein, playing that old thing in F
To Rollo and Rembrandt, who wish they were deaf.
S is for Swinburne, who, seeking the true,
The good, and the beautiful, visits the Zoo,
Where he chances on Sappho and Mr. Sardou,
And Socrates, all with the same end in view.
W's Wagner, who sang and played lots,
For Washington, Wesley and good Dr. Watts;
His prurient plots pained Wesley and Watts,
But Washington said he "enjoyed them in spots."
[Oliver Herford
NONSENSE VERSES
1
HE Window has Four little Panes:
But One have I;
The Window-Panes are in its sash,—
I wonder why!
2
My Feet they haul me 'round the House:
They hoist me up the Stairs;
I only have to steer them and
They ride me everywheres.
3
Remarkable truly, is Art!
See—Elliptical wheels on a Cart!
It looks very fair
In the Picture up there;
But imagine the Ride when you start!
4
I'd rather have fingers than Toes;
I'd rather have Ears than a Nose:
And as for my hair,
I'm glad it's all there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes!
5
I wish that my Room had a floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
[Gelett Burgess
VERS NONSENSIQUES
AM gai. I am poet. I dvell
Rupert Street, at the fifth. I am svell.
And I sing tralala
And I love my mamma,
And the English, I speaks him quite well!
2
"Cassez-vous, cassez-vous, cassez-vous,
O mer, sur vos froids gris cilloux!"
Ainsi traduisit Laure
Au profit d'Isadore
(Bon jeune homme, et son futur epoux.)
3
Il existe une espinstere a Tours
Un peu vite, et qui portait toujours
Un ulster peau-de-phoque,
Un chapeau bilicoque,
Et des nicrebocquers en velours.
4
Un marin naufrage (de Doncastre)
Pour priere, au milieu du desastre
Repetait a genoux
Ces mots simples et doux:—
"Scintellez, scintellez, petit astre!"
[George du Maurier
NONSENSE VERSES
1
HERE was a small boy of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck:
When they said, "Are you friz?"
He replied, "Yes I is—
But we don't call this cold in Quebec!"
[Rudyard Kipling
2
There was an old man of St. Bees,
Who was stung in the arm by a wasp:
When they asked, "Does it hurt?"
He replied, "No it doesn't,
But I thought all the while 'twas a Hornet!"
[W.S. Gilbert
VARIA.
1
HERE was an old man of Tarentum
Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em;
And when asked for the cost
Of what he had lost,
Said, "I really can't tell, for I rent 'em!"
2
A lady there was of Antigua,
Who said to her spouse, "What a pig you are!"
He answered, "My queen
Is it manners you mean,
Or do you refer to my figure?"
3
There were three young women of Birmingham,
And I know a sad story concerning 'em;
They stuck needles and pins
In the right rev'rend shins
Of the Bishop engaged in confirming 'em!