 | Rhymes and jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge |  |
217
Master Tremble
As soon as I take my degree
As a classical scholar perfected,
No sharp politician I'll be,
Asking favors of all the elected.
No learned profession my plan,
Nor trade, till my courage is blunter;
For surely, deny it who can?
The greatest of men is the hunter!
As a classical scholar perfected,
No sharp politician I'll be,
Asking favors of all the elected.
No learned profession my plan,
Nor trade, till my courage is blunter;
For surely, deny it who can?
The greatest of men is the hunter!
There's Cummings the bold lion-tamer,
And fearless, undaunted Gérard,
And Baldwin, by tigers made lamer,
And Speke with his cámelopard.
And one of these days 'twill be Tremble,—
Most famous of all, I'll be bound,—
The great lion-crusher, young Tremble,
None equal to him the world round.
And fearless, undaunted Gérard,
And Baldwin, by tigers made lamer,
And Speke with his cámelopard.
218
Most famous of all, I'll be bound,—
The great lion-crusher, young Tremble,
None equal to him the world round.
Already I've tested my mettle:
No cat but will flee at my tread;
And let a mosquito but settle
And nip me—that instant he's dead!
Know also that only this morning
A terrible peril I met,
While taking a ramble—no warning—
(That hour shall I ever forget?)
No cat but will flee at my tread;
And let a mosquito but settle
And nip me—that instant he's dead!
Know also that only this morning
A terrible peril I met,
While taking a ramble—no warning—
(That hour shall I ever forget?)
I was longing at heart for a rifle,
And a chance for some wonderful shot
(A lion seemed then a mere trifle
I would rather encounter than not),
When, presto! a horrible creature
Came buzzing and diving at me,
Aiming straight at my favorite feature—
A horrible, black bumble-bee!
And a chance for some wonderful shot
(A lion seemed then a mere trifle
I would rather encounter than not),
When, presto! a horrible creature
Came buzzing and diving at me,
Aiming straight at my favorite feature—
A horrible, black bumble-bee!
A horrible, black humble bumble,
Bound straight for my beautiful nose;
For an instant (I'll own) I did tumble,
But quickly in majesty rose.
Each childish emotion I swallowed,
Moving onward as fast as I could;
The great buzzing monster, he followed
Till we came to a shadowy wood.
Bound straight for my beautiful nose;
For an instant (I'll own) I did tumble,
But quickly in majesty rose.
Each childish emotion I swallowed,
Moving onward as fast as I could;
The great buzzing monster, he followed
Till we came to a shadowy wood.
219
Ha! what was that sharp thrill of anguish,
And what the great swelling that came?
And why was I rushing and shouting—
The whole of my face in a flame?
I knew that the buzzing was louder,
That my nose was as big as my head;
I wanted to grind him to powder;
I wished him a thousand times dead!
And what the great swelling that came?
And why was I rushing and shouting—
The whole of my face in a flame?
I knew that the buzzing was louder,
That my nose was as big as my head;
I wanted to grind him to powder;
I wished him a thousand times dead!
Blind battle! my ev'ry-day jacket
Was tighter than steel coat of mail,
And the monster kept up such a racket,
I scarce knew his head from his tail.
He, plunging and wheeling and darting
And pitching and screeching at me;
I, maddened with burning and smarting—
What wonder I dodged by a tree!
Was tighter than steel coat of mail,
And the monster kept up such a racket,
I scarce knew his head from his tail.
He, plunging and wheeling and darting
And pitching and screeching at me;
I, maddened with burning and smarting—
What wonder I dodged by a tree!
What wonder that soon, in his frenzy,
My murderous foe bumped his head!
The tree never tumbled nor tottered,
But he fell “co-chunk” in its stead.
Then I turned, in a terrible passion,
And stamped with my full might and main:
I stamped in the sledge-hammer fashion,—
My bee never bumbled again!
My murderous foe bumped his head!
The tree never tumbled nor tottered,
But he fell “co-chunk” in its stead.
Then I turned, in a terrible passion,
And stamped with my full might and main:
I stamped in the sledge-hammer fashion,—
My bee never bumbled again!
Then why should I not be a hunter,
So gallant and fearless and spry?
What other vocation would answer
For such a brave fellow as I?
Ah! woe to the beasts of the forest!
And woe to all monsters with wings!
As soon as my studies are over,
I mean to do terrible things.
So gallant and fearless and spry?
What other vocation would answer
For such a brave fellow as I?
220
And woe to all monsters with wings!
As soon as my studies are over,
I mean to do terrible things.
| Rhymes and jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge | |