Page 164—Goat Land
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O'Grady's Goat O'Grady lived in shanty row, The neighbours often said They wished that Tim would move away Or that his goat was dead. He kept the neighbourhood in fear, And the children always vexed; They couldn't tell jist whin or where The goat would pop up nexht. Ould Missis Casey stood wan day The dirty clothes to rub Upon the washboard, when she dived Head foremost o'er the tub; She lit upon her back an' yelled, As she was lying flat: "Go git your goon an' kill the bashte." O'Grady's goat did that. Pat Doolan's woife hung out the wash, Upon the line to dry. She wint to take it in at night, But stopped to have a cry. The sleeves av two red flannel shirts, Tat once was worn by Pat, Were chewed off almost to the neck. O'Grady's goat doon that. They had a party at McCune's, And they were having foon, Whin suddinly there was a crash An' ivrybody roon. The iseter soup fell on the floor An' nearly drowned the cat; The stove was knocked to smithereens. O'Grady's goat doon that. O'Hoolerhan brought home a keg Ave dannymite wan day To blow a cistern in his yard An' hid the stuff away. But suddinly an airthquake coom, O'Hoolerhan, house an' hat, And ivrything in sight wint up, O'Grady's goat doon that. Will S. Hays |
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The Goat and the Swing A little story with a moral For the young folks who are prone to quarrel. Old folks are wise, and do not need it, Of course they, therefore, will not read it. A vicious goat, one day, had found His way into forbidden ground When coming to the garden-swing, He spied a most prodigious thing,— A ram, a monster, to his mind, With head before and head behind! Its shape was odd—no hoofs were seen, But, without legs, it stood between Two uprights, lofty posts of oak, With forehead ready for a stroke. Though but a harmless ornament Carved of the seat, it seemed intent On barring the intruder's way; While he, advancing, seemed to say, "Who is this surly fellow here, Two heads, no tail—it's mighty queer! A most insulting countenance!" With stamp of foot and angry glance He curbed he threatening neck and stood Before the passive thing of wood. "You winked as I was going by! You did not? What! tell me I lie? Take that!" And at the swing he sprung. A sounding thump! It backward swung, And set in motion by the blow, Swayed menacingly to and fro. "Ha! you will fight! A quarrelsome chap, I knew you were! You'll get a rap! I'll crack your skull!" A headlong jump; Another and a louder bump! The swing, as with kindling wrath, Came rushing back along the path. The goat, astonished, shook his head, Winked hard, turned round, grew mad, and said, "Villain! I'll teach you who I am!" (Or seemed to say,)—"you rascal ram, To pick a fight with me, when I So quietly am passing by! Your head or mine!" A thundering stroke— The cracking horns met crashing oak! Then came a dull and muffled sound, And something rolled along the ground, Got up, looked sad—appeared to say, "Your head's too hard!"—and limped away Quite humbly, in a rumpled coat— A dustier and a wiser goat! J. T. Throwbridge |
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Page 165—Monkey Land
