The Glugs of Gosh

by C. J. Dennis

II. JOI, THE GLUG

The Glugs abide in a far, far land
That is partly pebbles and stones and sand
But mainly earth of a chocolate hue,
When it isn't purple or slightly blue.
And the Glugs live there with their aunts and their wives,
In draught-proof tenements all their lives.
And they climb the trees when the weather is wet,
To see how high they can really get.
Pray, don't forget,
This is chiefly done when the weather is wet.
And every shadow that flits and hides,
And every stream that glistens and glides
And laughs its way from a highland height,
All know the Glugs quite well by sight.
And they say, "Our test is the best by far;
For a Glug is a Glug; so there you are!
And they climb the trees when it drizzles or hails
To get electricity into their nails;
And the Glug that fails
Is a luckless Glug, if it drizzles or hails."
Now, the Glugs abide in the lands of Gosh;
And they work all day for the sake of Splosh.
For Splosh, the First, is the Nation's pride,
And King of the Glugs, on his uncle's side.
And they sleep at night, for the sake of rest;
For their doctors say this suits them best.
And they climb the trees, as a general rule,
For exercise, when the weather is cool.
They're taught at school
To climb the trees when the weather is cool.
And the whispering grass on the gay green hills
And every cricket that skirls and shrills,
And every moonbeam, gleaming white,
All know the Glugs quite well by sight.
And they say, "It is safe, it is the test we bring;
For a Glug is an awful Gluglike thing.
And they climb the trees when there's a sign of fog,
To scan the land for a feasible dog.
They love to jog
Thro' dells in quest of a feasible dog."
The Glugs eat meals three times a day
Because their fathers ate that way.
Their grandpas said the scheme was good
To help the Glugs digest their food.
And 'tis wholesome food the Glugs have got,
For it says so plain on the tin and pot.
And they climb the trees when the weather is dry
To get a glimpse of the pale green sky.
We don't know why,
But they like to gaze on the pale green sky.
And every cloud that sails aloft,
And every breeze that blows so soft,
And every star that shines at night,
All know the Glugs quite well by sight.
For they say, "Our test, it is safe and true;
What one Glug does, the other Glugs do;
And they climb the trees when the weather is hot,
For a birds'-eye view of the garden plot.
Of course, it's rot,
But they love that view of the garden plot."
At half-past two on a Wednesday morn
A most peculiar Glug was born;
And later on, when he grew a man,
He scoffed and sneered at the Chosen Plan.
"It's wrong!" said this Glug, whose name was Joi.
"Bah!" said the Glugs. "He's a crazy boy!"
And they climbed the trees, as the West wind stirred,
To hark to the note of the Guffer Bird.
It seems absurd,
But they're foolishly fond of the Guffer Bird.
And every reed that rustles and sways
By the gurgling river that plashes and plays,
And the beasts of the dread, neurotic night
All know the Glugs quite well by sight.
And, "Why," say they; "It is easily done;
For a dexter Glug's like a sinister one!"
And they climb the trees. Oh, they climb the trees!
And they bark their knuckles, and chafe their knees;
And 'tis one of the world's great mysteries
That things like these
Get into the serious histories.

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III. THE STONES OF GOSH

Now, here is a tale of the Glugs of Gosh,
And a wonderful tale I ween,
Of the Glugs of Gosh and their great King Splosh,
And Tush, his virtuous Queen.
And here is a tale of the crafty Ogs,
In their neighbouring land of Podge;
Of their sayings and doings and plottings and brewings,
And something about Sir Stodge.
Wise to profundity,
Stout to rotundity,
That was the Knight, Sir Stodge.
Oh, the King was rich, and the Queen was fair,
And they made a very respectable pair.
And whenever a Glug in that peaceful land,
Did anything no one could understand,
The Knight, Sir Stodge, he looked in a book,
And charged that Glug with a crime called Crook.
And the great Judge Fudge, who wore for a hat
The sacred skin of a tortoiseshell cat,
He fined that Glug for his action rash,
And frequently asked a deposit in cash.
Then every Glug, he went home to his rest
With his head in a bag and his toes to the West;
For they knew it was best,
Since their grandpas slept with their toes to the West.
But all of the tale that is so far told
Has nothing whatever to do
With the Ogs of Podge, and their crafty dodge,
And the trade in pickles and glue.
To trade with the Glugs came the Ogs to Gosh,
And they said in seductive tones,
"We'll sell you pianers and pickels and spanners
For seventeen shiploads of stones:
Smooth 'uns or nobbly 'uns,
Firm 'uns or wobbly 'uns,
All we ask is stones."
And the King said, "What?" and the Queen said, "Why,
That is awfully cheap to the things I buy!
For that grocer of ours in the light brown hat
Asks two and eleven for pickles like that!"
But a Glug stood up with a wart on his nose,
And cried, "Your Majesties! Ogs is foes!"
But the Glugs cried, "Peace! Will you hold your jaw!
How did our grandpas fashion the law?"
Said the Knight, Sir Stodge, as he opened his Book,
"When the goods were cheap then the goods we took."
So they fined the Glug with the wart on his nose
For wearing a wart with his everyday clothes.
And the goods were brought home thro' a Glug named Ghones;
And the Ogs went home with their loads of stones,
Which they landed with glee in the land of Podge.
Do you notice the dodge?
Not yet did the Glugs, nor the Knight, Sir Stodge.
In the following Summer the Ogs came back
With a cargo of eight-day clocks,
And hand-painted screens, and sewing machines,
And mangles, and scissors, and socks.
And they said, "For these excellent things we bring
We are ready to take more stones;
And in bricks or road-metal
For goods you will settle
Indented by your Mister Ghones."
Cried the Glugs praisingly,
"Why how amazingly
Smart of industrious Ghones!"
And the King said, "Hum," and the Queen said, "Oo!
That curtain! What a bee-ootiful blue!"
But a Glug stood up with some very large ears,
And said, "There is more in this thing than appears!
And we ought to be taxing those goods of the Ogs,
Or our industries soon will be gone to the dogs."
And the King said, "Bosh! You're un-Gluggish and rude!"
And the Queen said, "What an absurd attitude!"
Then the Glugs cried, "Down with political quacks!
How did our grandpas look at a tax?"
So the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book.
"No tax," said he, "wherever I look."
Then they fined the Glug with the prominent ears
For being old-fashioned by several years;
And the Ogs went home with the stones, full-steam.
Did you notice the scheme?
Nor yet did the Glugs in their dreamiest dreams.
Then every month to the land of the Gosh
The Ogs, they continued to come,
With buttons and hooks, and medical books,
And rotary engines, and rum,
Large cases with labels, occasional tables,
Hair tonic and fiddles and 'phones;
And the Glugs, while copncealing their joy in the dealing,
Paid promptly in nothing but stones.
Why, it was screamingly
Laughable, seemingly---
Asking for nothing but stones!
And the King said, "Haw!" and the Queen said, "Oh!
Our drawing-room now is a heavenly show
Of large overmantels, and whatnots, and chairs,
And a statue of Splosh at the head of the stairs!"
But a Glug stood up with a cast in his eye,
And he said, "Far too many baubles we buy;
With all the Gosh factories closing their doors,
And importers' warehouses lining our shores."
But the Glugs cried, "Down with such meddlesome fools!
What did our grandpas lay down in their rules?"
And the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book:
"To Cheapness," he said, "was the road they took."
Then every Glug who was not too fat
Turned seventeen handsprings, and jumped on his hat.
They fined the Glug with the cast in his eye
For looking both ways--which he did not deny--
And for having no visible precedent, which
Is a crime in the poor and a fault in the rich.
So the Glugs continued, with greed and glee,
To buy cheap clothing, and pills, and tea;
Till every Glug in the land of Gosh
Owned three clean shirts and a fourth in the wash.
But they all grew idle, and fond of ease,
And easy to swindle, and hard to please;
And the voice of Joi was a lonely voice,
When he railed at Gosh for its foolish choice.
But the great King grinned, and the good Queen gushed,
As the goods of the Ogs were madly rushed.
And the Knight, Sir Stodge, with a wave of his hand,
Declared it a happy and prosperous land.