All good beginnings have that natural trend
Which safely leads to a successful end,
And stories all should have their plots well laid—
Which neither prose nor verse can do, when haste is made.
'Tis said "procrastination is the thief of time,"
And this might seem to be the object of my rhyme.
Had I not told you, as I should have done,
The reason why the story's not begun.
'Tis my sole object, then, to give without delay,
The narrative in a direct and proper way,
For as you know some critics may be here
Whom scribbling rhymesters may, with justice, fear.
"What shameless bards we have! And yet, 'tis true,
There are as mad, abandoned critics, too!"
This couplet, penned by Pope, is ever new—
But then, dear friends, the second line was not for you!
I only quote that you may comprehend
How modesty in me has missed its end,
And why it is I ever undertook to write
The story that I'm going to tell—sometime to-night.
An introduction that will keep the listener in suspense
I deem derogatory to good taste and sense;
And this is also why I'll nothing put as prefatory
Before I launch right out into the story.
I'm going to make it thrilling, crisp and short,
In purest diction drest, with gems of thought
So intermingled with the story's warp and woof,
That from beginning I can scarcely keep aloof.
I'll put quotation marks to shrive me of the sin
Of plagiarism when such language I begin—
That every one of you may plainly see
I tell the story as 'twas told to me.
So calmly, coolly then, I think I will proceed
To give you now the story—taking heed
To curtail all that truth and justice will permit—
Remembering that "brevity's the soul of wit."
But undue haste would cause me to forget
And mar the memory of its telling with regret
If I had overlooked some startling fact,
Which on both truth and justice would re-act!