CONTINUED IN THE ADS
A DIRGE INSPIRED BY A REGRETTABLE TENDENCY IN THE PERIODICALS OF OUR DAY
BY SARAH REDINGTON
(With the usual apologies to Swinburne)
IF I wrote sonnets soulful
And you wrote ads for beans,
And I got in your section
’Twould cause me deep dejection.
(My Muse would be so doleful
In such unwonted scenes.)
If I wrote sonnets soulful,
And you wrote ads for beans.
If you had sung the praises
Of soap or safety-pin,
And found some high-brow lyric
Beside your panegyric,
You’d be as mad as blazes
To see bards butting in.
If you had sung the praises
Of soap or safety-pin.
When, on page eight, perusing
“The Baby and the Cop,”
Its dénouement I’m bidden
To seek, ’mid ads half hidden,
I find it hanged confusing
And let the Baby drop.
When, on page eight perusing
“The Baby and the Cop.”
When one is just deciding
To buy a fountain-pen,
And in the ads one’s seeking
For “Notablot Non-Leaking,”
Who wants to be colliding
With “Wives of Famous Men”?
When one is just deciding
To buy a fountain-pen.
Oh, magazines suggesting
A boarding-house ragout,
Why mix your tales and ballads
With ads of soups and salads?
It’s hard enough digesting
The awful stuff we do.
Oh, magazines suggesting
A boarding-house ragout.
THE RYMBEL FAMILY. FROM A RECENT PORTRAIT BY OLIVER HERFORD