The Book of Humorous Verse Part 179

I heard him then, for I had just Completed my design To keep the Menai Bridge from rust By boiling it in wine.

I thanked him much for telling me The way he got his wealth, But chiefly for his wish that he Might drink my n.o.ble health.

And now if e'er by chance I put My fingers into glue, Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot Into a left-hand shoe, Or if I drop upon my toe A very heavy weight, I weep, for it reminds me so Of that old man I used to know-- Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow, Whose hair was whiter than the snow, Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe, Who rocked his body to and fro, And muttered mumblingly, and low, As if his mouth were full of dough, Who snorted like a buffalo-- That summer evening, long ago, A-sitting on a gate.

_Lewis Carroll._

HUMPTY DUMPTY'S RECITATION

"In winter, when the fields are white, I sing this song for your delight----

"In spring, when woods are getting green, I'll try and tell you what I mean:"

"In summer, when the days are long, Perhaps you'll understand the song:

In autumn, when the leaves are brown, Take pen and ink, and write it down."

"I sent a message to the fish: I told them 'This is what I wish.'

The little fishes of the sea, They sent an answer back to me.

The little fishes' answer was, 'We cannot do it, Sir, because----'"

"I sent to them again to say 'It will be better to obey.'

The fishes answered, with a grin, 'Why, what a temper you are in!'

I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice.

I took a kettle large and new, Fit for the deed I had to do.

My heart went hop, my heart went thump: I filled the kettle at the pump.

Then some one came to me and said, 'The little fishes are in bed.'

I said to him, I said it plain, 'Then you must wake them up again.'

I said it very loud and clear: I went and shouted in his ear.

But he was very stiff and proud: He said, 'You needn't shout so loud!'

And he was very proud and stiff: He said, 'I'd go and wake them, if----'

I took a corkscrew from the shelf: I went to wake them up myself.

And when I found the door was locked, I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.

And when I found the door was shut, I tried to turn the handle, but----"

_Lewis Carroll._

SOME HALLUCINATIONS

He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife.

"At length I realise," he said, "The bitterness of Life!"

He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sister's Husband's Niece.

"Unless you leave this house," he said, "I'll send for the Police!"

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake That questioned him in Greek: He looked again, and found it was The Middle of Next Week.

"The one thing I regret," he said, "Is that it cannot speak!"

He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk Descending from the 'bus: He looked again, and found it was A Hippopotamus: "If this should stay to dine," he said, "There won't be much for us!"

He thought he saw an Albatross That fluttered round the lamp: He looked again, and found it was A Penny-Postage-Stamp.

"You'd best be getting home," he said; "The nights are very damp!"

He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four That stood beside his bed: He looked again, and found it was A Bear without a Head.

"Poor thing," he said, "poor silly thing!

It's waiting to be fed!"

He thought he saw a Kangaroo That worked a coffee-mill: He looked again, and found it was A Vegetable-Pill.

"Were I to swallow this," he said, "I should be very ill!"

_Lewis Carroll._

SING FOR THE GARISH EYE

Sing for the garish eye, When moonless brandlings cling!

Let the froddering crooner cry, And the braddled sapster sing.

For never, and never again, Will the tottering beechlings play, For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!

The wracking globe unstrung, Unstrung in the frittering light Of a moon that knows no day, Of a day that knows no night!

Diving away in the crowd Of sparkling frets in spray, The bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!

Hasten, O hapful blue, Blue, of the s.h.i.+mmering brow, Hasten the deed to do That shall roddle the welkin now!

For never again shall a cloud Out-thribble the babbling day, When bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!