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 | Pepper & Salt, or Seasoning for Young Folk |  |
TWO OPINIONS
(Ye first opinion)
A noisy chattering Magpie once
A talking gabbling hairbrained dunce
Came by where a sign-post stood
He nodded his head with a modish air
And said, “good-day” for he wasn't aware
That the sign-post pointing its finger there
Was only a block of wood
A talking gabbling hairbrained dunce
Came by where a sign-post stood
He nodded his head with a modish air
And said, “good-day” for he wasn't aware
That the sign-post pointing its finger there
Was only a block of wood
Quoth he “An exceedingly sultry day
'Tis more like June than the first of May
The post said never a word
“I've just dropped over from Lincolnshire.
My home is in the Cathedral Spire—
The air is cooler and purer the higher.
You get as you've doubtless heard”
'Tis more like June than the first of May
The post said never a word
“I've just dropped over from Lincolnshire.
My home is in the Cathedral Spire—
The air is cooler and purer the higher.
You get as you've doubtless heard”
So on he chattered wish never a stop,
And on and on till you'd think he would drop
(The post was as dumb as your hat)
But so as the pie could say his say
He did n't care whether it spoke all day;
For thus he observed as he walked away—
“An intelligent creature that”
And on and on till you'd think he would drop
(The post was as dumb as your hat)
But so as the pie could say his say
He did n't care whether it spoke all day;
For thus he observed as he walked away—
“An intelligent creature that”
(Ye second opinion)
Now once when the sky was pouring rain
The Magpie chanced to come by again
And there stood the post in the wet
“Helloa.” said the Magpie “What you here
Pray tell me I beg is there sheltering near—
A terrible day for this time of the year
'Twould make a Saint Anthony fret”
The Magpie chanced to come by again
And there stood the post in the wet
“Helloa.” said the Magpie “What you here
Pray tell me I beg is there sheltering near—
A terrible day for this time of the year
'Twould make a Saint Anthony fret”
“I beg your pardon—I did n't quite hear”
(Then louder) “I say is there sheltering near”
But the post was as dumb as Death
“What can't you answer a question pray
You will not—No—Then I'll say good day”
And flirting his tail he walked away
“You'r a fool” (this under his breath)
(Then louder) “I say is there sheltering near”
But the post was as dumb as Death
“What can't you answer a question pray
You will not—No—Then I'll say good day”
And flirting his tail he walked away
“You'r a fool” (this under his breath)
L' ENVOY
The moral that this story tracesIs—Circumstances alter cases.
Howard Pyle.
Ye song of ye foolish old woman
I saw an old woman go up a steep hill,
And she chuckled and laughed, as she went, with a will.
And yet, as she went,
Her body was bent,
With a load as heavy as sins in lent.
And she chuckled and laughed, as she went, with a will.
And yet, as she went,
Her body was bent,
With a load as heavy as sins in lent.
“Oh! why do you chuckle, old woman;” says I,
As you climb up the hill-side so steep and so high?”
“Because, don't you see,
I'll presently be,
At the top of the hill. He! he!” says she.
As you climb up the hill-side so steep and so high?”
“Because, don't you see,
I'll presently be,
At the top of the hill. He! he!” says she.
I saw the old woman go downward again;
And she easily travelled, with never a pain;
Yet she loudly cried,
And gustily sighed,
And groaned, though the road was level and wide.
And she easily travelled, with never a pain;
Yet she loudly cried,
And gustily sighed,
And groaned, though the road was level and wide.
“Oh! why, my old woman,” says I, “do you weep,
When you laughed, as you climbed up the hill-side so steep?”
“High-ho! I am vexed,
Because I expects,”
Says she, “I shall ache in climbing the next.
When you laughed, as you climbed up the hill-side so steep?”
“High-ho! I am vexed,
Because I expects,”
Says she, “I shall ache in climbing the next.
H. Pyle.
A newspaper puff:
Twelve geese
In a row
(So these
Always go).
Down-hill
They meander,
Tail to bill;
First the gander.
So they stalked,
Bold as brass,
As they walked
To the grass.
In a row
(So these
Always go).
Down-hill
They meander,
Tail to bill;
First the gander.
So they stalked,
Bold as brass,
As they walked
To the grass.
Suddenly
Stopped the throng;
Plain to see
Something's wrong
Yes; there is
Something white!
No quiz;
Clear to sight.
('Twill amuse
When you're told
'Twas a news-
Paper old.)
Stopped the throng;
Plain to see
Something's wrong
Yes; there is
Something white!
No quiz;
Clear to sight.
('Twill amuse
When you're told
'Twas a news-
Paper old.)
Gander spoke.
Braver bird
Never broke
Egg, I've heard:
“Stand here
Steadily,
Never fear,
Wait for me.”
Braver bird
Never broke
Egg, I've heard:
“Stand here
Steadily,
Never fear,
Wait for me.”
Forth he went,
Cautious, slow,
Body bent,
Head low.
All the rest
Stood fast,
Waiting for
What passed.
Cautious, slow,
Body bent,
Head low.
All the rest
Stood fast,
Waiting for
What passed.
Wind came
With a caper,
Caught same
Daily paper.
Up it sailed
In the air;
Courage failed
Then and there.
Scared well
Out of wits;
Nearly fell
Into fits.
Off they sped,
Helter-skelter,
'Till they'd fled
Under shelter.
With a caper,
Caught same
Daily paper.
Up it sailed
In the air;
Courage failed
Then and there.
Scared well
Out of wits;
Nearly fell
Into fits.
Off they sped,
Helter-skelter,
'Till they'd fled
Under shelter.
Poor geese!
Never mind;
Other geese
One can find,
Cut the same
Foolish caper
At empty wind
In a paper.
Never mind;
Other geese
One can find,
Cut the same
Foolish caper
At empty wind
In a paper.
H. Pyle.
Three Fortunes
A merry young shoemaker,
And a tailor, and a baker,
Went to seek their fortunes, for they had been told,
Where a rainbow touched the ground,
(If it only could be found,)
Was a purse that should be always full of gold.
And a tailor, and a baker,
Went to seek their fortunes, for they had been told,
Where a rainbow touched the ground,
(If it only could be found,)
Was a purse that should be always full of gold.
So they traveled day by day,
In a jolly, jocund way
Till the shoemaker a pretty lass espied;
When quoth he, “It seems to me,
There can never, never be,
Better luck than this in all the world beside.”
In a jolly, jocund way
Till the shoemaker a pretty lass espied;
When quoth he, “It seems to me,
There can never, never be,
Better luck than this in all the world beside.”
So the others said good-bye,
And went on, till by-and-by
They espied a shady inn beside the way;
Where the Hostess fair,—a widow—
In a lone seclusion hid; “Oh,
Here is luck!” the tailor said; “and here I'll stay.”
And went on, till by-and-by
They espied a shady inn beside the way;
Where the Hostess fair,—a widow—
In a lone seclusion hid; “Oh,
Here is luck!” the tailor said; “and here I'll stay.”
So the baker jogged along,
All alone, wish ne'er a song,
Or a jest; and nothing tempted him to stay.
But he went from bad to worse,
For he never found the purse,
And for all I know he's wandering to this day.
All alone, wish ne'er a song,
Or a jest; and nothing tempted him to stay.
But he went from bad to worse,
For he never found the purse,
And for all I know he's wandering to this day.
It is better, on the whole,
For an ordinary soul,
(So I gather from this song I've tried to sing,)
For to take the luck that may
Chance to fall within his way,
Than to toil for an imaginary thing.
For an ordinary soul,
(So I gather from this song I've tried to sing,)
For to take the luck that may
Chance to fall within his way,
Than to toil for an imaginary thing.
H. Pyle.
Venturesome Boldness
A tailor came a-walking by,
The fire of courage in his eye.
“Where are you going, sir?” Said I
The fire of courage in his eye.
“Where are you going, sir?” Said I
“I slew a mouse
In our house,
Where other tailors live,” said he,
“And not a Jack
Among the pack
Would dare to do the like; pardie!
Therefore, I'm going out to try
If there be greater men than I;
Or in the land
As bold a hand
At wielding brand as I, you see!”
In our house,
Where other tailors live,” said he,
“And not a Jack
Among the pack
Would dare to do the like; pardie!
Therefore, I'm going out to try
If there be greater men than I;
Or in the land
As bold a hand
At wielding brand as I, you see!”
The tailor came a-limping by
With woful face and clothes awry
And all his courage gone to pie.
With woful face and clothes awry
And all his courage gone to pie.
“I met a knight
In armor bright,
And bade him stand and draw,” said he;
“He straightway did
As he was bid,
And treated me outrageously.
So I shall get me home again,
And probably shall there remain.
A little man,
Sir, always can
Be great with folk of less degree!”
In armor bright,
And bade him stand and draw,” said he;
“He straightway did
As he was bid,
And treated me outrageously.
So I shall get me home again,
And probably shall there remain.
A little man,
Sir, always can
Be great with folk of less degree!”
Superficial Culture
I'll tell of a certain old dame;
The same
Had a beautiful piggy, whose name
Was Jame-
-S; and whose beauty and worth,
From the day of his birth,
Were matters of popular fame,
And his claim
To gentility no one could blame.
The same
Had a beautiful piggy, whose name
Was Jame-
-S; and whose beauty and worth,
From the day of his birth,
Were matters of popular fame,
And his claim
To gentility no one could blame.
So, seeing his promise, she thought
She ought
To have him sufficiently taught
The art
Of deportment, to go
Into company; so
A master of dancing she brought,
Who was fraught
With a style which the piggiwig caught.
She ought
To have him sufficiently taught
The art
Of deportment, to go
Into company; so
A master of dancing she brought,
Who was fraught
With a style which the piggiwig caught.
So his company manners were rare.
His care
Of social observances there
Would bear
The closest inspection,
And not a reflection
Could rest on his actions, howe'er
You might care
To examine 'em down to a hair.
His care
Of social observances there
Would bear
The closest inspection,
And not a reflection
Could rest on his actions, howe'er
You might care
To examine 'em down to a hair.
Now, things went beau-ti-ful-ly,
Till he
Fell in love with a dame of degree;
Pardie!
When he tried for to speak,
But could only say, “O w-e-e-k!”
For, whatever his polish might be,
Why, dear me!
He was pig at the bottom, you see.
Till he
Fell in love with a dame of degree;
Pardie!
When he tried for to speak,
But could only say, “O w-e-e-k!”
For, whatever his polish might be,
Why, dear me!
He was pig at the bottom, you see.
H. PYLE.
YE SONG OF YE GOSSIPS:
1
One old maid,And another old maid,
And another old maid—that's three—
And they were agossiping, I am afraid,
As they sat sipping their tea.
2
They talked of this,And they talked of that,
In the usual gossiping way
Until everybody was black as your hat,
And the only ones white were they.
3
One old maid,And another old maid,—
For the third had gone into the street—
Who talked in a way of that third old maid,
Which never would do to repeat.
4
And now but oneDame sat all alone,
For the others were both away.
“I've never yet met,” said she, with a groan,
“Such scandalous talkers as they.
5
Alas! and alack!”“We're all of a pack!
For no matter how we walk,
Or what folk say to our face, our back
Is sure to breed gossip and talk.”
H. PYLE:
A VICTIM TO SCIENCE.
Thre were two wise physicians once, of glory and renown,Who went to take a little walk nigh famous Concord town.
Oh! very, very great and wise and learned men were they,
And wise and learned was thr talk, as they walked on thr way.
And as they walked, and talked and talked, they came to whre they found
A Crow as black as any hat, a-sitting on ye ground.
Ye Crow was very, very sick, as you may quickly see
By just looking at ye picture tht is drawn hre by me.
Now whn ye doctors came to him they mended of thr pace,
And said one unto ye other, “Hre's an interesting case;
A case tht shld be treated, and be treated speedily.
I have—yes, here it is—a pill tht has been made by me.
Now, I have had occasion—” Said ye other, “In most cases
Your pills are excellently good, but hre, my friend, are traces
Of a lassitude, a languor, tht your pills cld hardly aid;
In short, they're rather violent for ths, I am afraid.
I have a tincture—” Said ye first, “Your tincture cannot touch
A case as difficult as ths; my pills are better, much.”
“Your pills, sir, are too violent.” “Your tonic is too weak.”
“As I have said, sir, in ths case—” “Permit me, sir, to speak.”
And so they argued long and high, and on, and on, and on,
Until they lost their tempers, and an hour or more had gone.
But long before their arguments ye question did decide,
Ye Crow, not waiting for ye end, incontinently died.
Ye Moral (is apparent.)
H. Pyle.
Play & Earnest:
Over dewy hill and lea
Merrily
Rushed a mad-cap breeze at play,
And the daisies, like the bright
Stars at night,
Danced and twinkled in its way.
Merrily
Rushed a mad-cap breeze at play,
And the daisies, like the bright
Stars at night,
Danced and twinkled in its way.
Now, a tree called to the breeze,
“Little breeze,
Will you come and have a play?”
And the wind upon its way
Stopped to play.
Then the leaves, with sudden shiver,
Sudden quiver,
Met the light
Mad-cap breeze
With delight.
“Little breeze,
Will you come and have a play?”
And the wind upon its way
Stopped to play.
Then the leaves, with sudden shiver,
Sudden quiver,
Met the light
Mad-cap breeze
With delight.
Presently the breeze grew stronger,
For it cared to play no longer.
So it flung the limbs about,
And it tossed the leaves in rout,
Till it roared, as though with thunder.
Then the poor tree groaned and bent,
And the breeze,—a tempest,—rent
Leaves and branches from its crown:
Till, at last, it flung it down,
Stripped, and bare, and torn asunder.
For it cared to play no longer.
So it flung the limbs about,
And it tossed the leaves in rout,
Till it roared, as though with thunder.
Then the poor tree groaned and bent,
And the breeze,—a tempest,—rent
Leaves and branches from its crown:
Till, at last, it flung it down,
Stripped, and bare, and torn asunder.
The accident of birth.
Saint Nicholas
used to send, so I am told,
All new-born babes by storks, in days of old.
All new-born babes by storks, in days of old.
1
King Friedrich Max of Stultzenmannenkim,For many years unto ye Saint did pray,
That he would send unto his Queen and him,
A baby boy, to be ye King some day.
At last ye Saint ye King's petition heard,
And called to him a sober long-legged bird.
2
Quoth he, “Good Wilhelm Stork (such was its name),Here is a baby boy to take away.
It is for Fritz; so bear him to ye same,
Or rather to his Queen, without delay.
For one grows weary when one always hears
Ye same words daily dinning in one's ears.”
3
Now Wilhelm Stork was old, and dull of wits,For age not always sharpens wisdom much,
So what does he but bear ye gift to Fritz
Ye cobbler, who had half a score of such.
And so ye baby, through a blunder, passed
From being first of all, unto—ye last.
4
From this I gather that a new-born Prince,From new-born cobbler's somewhat hard to know,
For which of us could tell ye difference, since
One thus experienced was mistaken so?
Also, perhaps, I should be great, instead
Of writing thus, to earn my daily bread
H. P. MDCCCLXXXIII
Ye Romantic Adventures of Three Tailors
Three little men went a jogging along—
Along in the sunshiny weather
And they laughed and they sang an occasional song
Which they all of them caroled together.
And the great white clouds floated over the sky
And the day it was warm and the sun it was high.
Along in the sunshiny weather
And they laughed and they sang an occasional song
Which they all of them caroled together.
And the great white clouds floated over the sky
And the day it was warm and the sun it was high.
As three jolly tailor men all were they
As you'd find in a dozen of years.
One carried the yardstick another the goose.
And the bravest of all bore the shears
So they merrily trudged until after awhile
They came where three milk-maids sat all on a stile
As you'd find in a dozen of years.
One carried the yardstick another the goose.
And the bravest of all bore the shears
So they merrily trudged until after awhile
They came where three milk-maids sat all on a stile
The grass it was green and the flowers were gay
And it was the pleasantest weather
And the milkmaids were pretty as blossoms in May
As they sat on the stile all together
Then they stopped on the highway those three gallant men
For they never had seen as fair lasses as then
And it was the pleasantest weather
And the milkmaids were pretty as blossoms in May
As they sat on the stile all together
Then they stopped on the highway those three gallant men
For they never had seen as fair lasses as then
Then up spake the first of the tailor men three
And the one with the goodliest parts
“We are all of us good men gallant and free
And have never yet plighted our hearts
So prithee fair maids will you marry us all
For our hearts they be great tho' our bodies be small”
And the one with the goodliest parts
“We are all of us good men gallant and free
And have never yet plighted our hearts
So prithee fair maids will you marry us all
For our hearts they be great tho' our bodies be small”
Then up spake the first of the three pretty dears
“Pray tell what your fortunes may be sir”
“Oh three loving hearts and a yard goose and shears.”
“Then you've not enough fortune for me sir
So get you along while your boots are still green
For richer young men we shall marry I ween”
“Pray tell what your fortunes may be sir”
“Oh three loving hearts and a yard goose and shears.”
“Then you've not enough fortune for me sir
So get you along while your boots are still green
For richer young men we shall marry I ween”
Three little tailor-men jogging along—
Along in the sunshiny weather
No longer they laugh with a jest and a song
But they walk very sadly together
For when maidens are proud like the milk maidens cold
The lads they grow sad like the tailors so bold.
Along in the sunshiny weather
No longer they laugh with a jest and a song
But they walk very sadly together
For when maidens are proud like the milk maidens cold
The lads they grow sad like the tailors so bold.
FANCY AND FACT
O! a shepherd and a shepherdess,
They dwelt in Arcadee,
And they were dressed in Watteau dress,
Most charming for to see.
They dwelt in Arcadee,
And they were dressed in Watteau dress,
Most charming for to see.
They sat upon the dewy grass,
With buds and blossoms set.
And the shepherd played unto the lass,
Vpon a flageolet.
With buds and blossoms set.
And the shepherd played unto the lass,
Vpon a flageolet.
It seemed to me as though it was
A very pleasant thing;
Particularly so because
The time of year was Spring.
A very pleasant thing;
Particularly so because
The time of year was Spring.
But, O! the ground was damp, and so.
At least, I have been told,
The shepherd caught the lumbago,
The shepherdess, a cold.
At least, I have been told,
The shepherd caught the lumbago,
The shepherdess, a cold.
My darling Child! the fact is
That the Poets often sing
Of those joys which in the practice
Are another sort of thing.
That the Poets often sing
Of those joys which in the practice
Are another sort of thing.
YE TWO WISHES
An Angel went a walking out one day, as I've heard said,
And, coming to a faggot-maker, begged a crust of bread
The faggot-maker gave a crust and something rather queer
To wash it down with all, from out a bottle that stood near.
The Angel finished eating; but before he left, said he,
“Thou shalt have two wishes granted, for that thou hast given me.
One wish for that good drinkable, another for the bread.”
Then he left the faggot-maker all amazed at what he'd said.
And, coming to a faggot-maker, begged a crust of bread
The faggot-maker gave a crust and something rather queer
To wash it down with all, from out a bottle that stood near.
The Angel finished eating; but before he left, said he,
“Thou shalt have two wishes granted, for that thou hast given me.
One wish for that good drinkable, another for the bread.”
Then he left the faggot-maker all amazed at what he'd said.
“I wonder,” says the faggot-maker, after he had gone,
“I wonder if there's any truth in that same little song!”
So, turning this thing over in his mind, he cast around,
'Till he saw the empty bottle where it lay upon the ground.
“I wish,” said he, just as a test, “if what he said is so,
Into that empty bottle, now, that I may straightway go”
No sooner said than done; for,—Whisk! into the flask he fell,
Where he found himself if as tightly packed as chicken in the shell.
In vain he kicked and twisted, and in vain he howled with pain;
For, in spite of all his efforts, he could not get out again.
So, seeing how the matter stood, he had to wish once more.
When, out he slipped, as easily as he'd gone in before.
“I wonder if there's any truth in that same little song!”
So, turning this thing over in his mind, he cast around,
'Till he saw the empty bottle where it lay upon the ground.
“I wish,” said he, just as a test, “if what he said is so,
Into that empty bottle, now, that I may straightway go”
No sooner said than done; for,—Whisk! into the flask he fell,
Where he found himself if as tightly packed as chicken in the shell.
In vain he kicked and twisted, and in vain he howled with pain;
For, in spite of all his efforts, he could not get out again.
So, seeing how the matter stood, he had to wish once more.
When, out he slipped, as easily as he'd gone in before.
If we had had two wishes, granted by an Angel thus,
We would not throw away the good so kindly given us.
For first we'd ask for wisdom, which, when we had in store,
I'm very doubtful if we'd care to ask for anymore.
We would not throw away the good so kindly given us.
For first we'd ask for wisdom, which, when we had in store,
I'm very doubtful if we'd care to ask for anymore.
A VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME:
A wise man once, of Haarlem town,
Went wandering up, and wandering down,
And ever the question asked:
Went wandering up, and wandering down,
And ever the question asked:
“If all the world was paper,
And if all the sea was ink,
And if the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we do for drink?”
And if all the sea was ink,
And if the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we do for drink?”
Then all the folk, both great and small,
Began to beat their brains,
But they could not answer him at all,
In spite of all their pains.
Began to beat their brains,
But they could not answer him at all,
In spite of all their pains.
But still he wandered here and there,
That man of great renown,
And still he questioned everywhere,
The folk of Haarlem town:
That man of great renown,
And still he questioned everywhere,
The folk of Haarlem town:
“If all the world was paper,
And if all the sea was ink,
And if the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we do for drink?”
And if all the sea was ink,
And if the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we do for drink?”
Full thin he grew, as, day by day,
He toiled with mental strain,
Until the wind blew him away,
And he ne'er was seen again.
He toiled with mental strain,
Until the wind blew him away,
And he ne'er was seen again.
And now methinks I hear you say,
“Was ere a man so foolish, pray,
Since first the world began?”
Oh, hush! I'll tell you secretly,
Down East there dwells a man, and he
Is asking questions constantly,
That none can answer, that I see;
Yet he's a wise-wise man!
“Was ere a man so foolish, pray,
Since first the world began?”
Oh, hush! I'll tell you secretly,
Down East there dwells a man, and he
Is asking questions constantly,
That none can answer, that I see;
Yet he's a wise-wise man!
Ye Song of ye Rajah—ye Fly:
Great and rich beyond comparing
Was the Rajah Rhama Jaring,
As he went to take an airing
With his Court one summer day.
All were gay with green and yellow;
And a little darky fellow
Bore a monstrous sun-umbrella,
For to shade him on the way.
Was the Rajah Rhama Jaring,
As he went to take an airing
With his Court one summer day.
All were gay with green and yellow;
And a little darky fellow
Bore a monstrous sun-umbrella,
For to shade him on the way.
Now a certain fly, unwitting
Of this grandeur, came a-flitting
To the Royal nose, and sitting,
Twirled his legs upon the same.
Then the Rajah's eyes blazed fire
At the insult, and the ire
In his heart boiled high and higher.
Slap! he struck; but missed his aim.
Of this grandeur, came a-flitting
To the Royal nose, and sitting,
Twirled his legs upon the same.
Then the Rajah's eyes blazed fire
At the insult, and the ire
In his heart boiled high and higher.
Slap! he struck; but missed his aim.
Then all trembled at his passion,
For he spoke in furious fashion.
“Saw ye how yon fly did dash on
To our august nose?” he said.
“Now let all within our nation
Wage a war without cessation;—
War of b-lood, ex-ter-mi-nation,
Until every fly is dead!!!!”
For he spoke in furious fashion.
“Saw ye how yon fly did dash on
To our august nose?” he said.
“Now let all within our nation
Wage a war without cessation;—
War of b-lood, ex-ter-mi-nation,
Until every fly is dead!!!!”
Now the while this war was raging.
That the Rajah was a-waging,
Things that should have been engaging
His attention went to pot.
So he came at last to begging,
Though the flies continued plaguing,
For it's not so easy pegging
Out vexations thus, I wot.
That the Rajah was a-waging,
Things that should have been engaging
His attention went to pot.
So he came at last to begging,
Though the flies continued plaguing,
For it's not so easy pegging
Out vexations thus, I wot.
From this you may see what all have to expect,
Who, fighting small troubles, great duties neglect.
Who, fighting small troubles, great duties neglect.
Pride in Distress.
Mistress Polly Poppenjay
Went to take a walk one day.
On that morning she was dressed
In her very sunday best;
Feathers, frills and ribbons gay,—
Proud was Mistress Poppenjay.
Went to take a walk one day.
On that morning she was dressed
In her very sunday best;
Feathers, frills and ribbons gay,—
Proud was Mistress Poppenjay.
Mistress Polly Poppenjay
Spoke to no one on her way;
Passed acquaintances aside;
Held her head aloft with pride;
Did not see a puddle lay
In front of Mistress Poppenjay.
Spoke to no one on her way;
Passed acquaintances aside;
Held her head aloft with pride;
Did not see a puddle lay
In front of Mistress Poppenjay.
Mistress Polly Poppenjay
Harked to naught the folk could say.
Loud they cried, “Beware the puddle!”
Plump! She stepped into the middle.
And a pretty plight straightway
Was poor Mistress Poppenjay.
Harked to naught the folk could say.
Loud they cried, “Beware the puddle!”
Plump! She stepped into the middle.
And a pretty plight straightway
Was poor Mistress Poppenjay.
Mistress Polly Poppenjay;
From your pickle others may
Learn to curb their pride a little;—
Learn to exercise their wit, till
They are sure no puddles may
Lie in front, Miss Poppenjay.
From your pickle others may
Learn to curb their pride a little;—
Learn to exercise their wit, till
They are sure no puddles may
Lie in front, Miss Poppenjay.
Howard Pyle.
Profession & Practice
Once, when Saint Swithin chanced to be
A-wandering in Hungary,
He, being hungered, cast around
To see if something might be found
To stay his stomach.
Near by stood
A little house, beside a wood,
Where dwelt a worthy man, but poor.
Thither he went, knocked at the door.
The good man came. Saint Swithin said,
“I prithee give a crust of bread
To ease my hunger.”
“Brother,” quoth
The good man, “I am sadly loath
To say” (here tears stood on his cheeks)
“I've had no bread for weeks and weeks,
Save what I've begged. Had I one bit,
I'd gladly give thee half of it.”
A-wandering in Hungary,
He, being hungered, cast around
To see if something might be found
To stay his stomach.
Near by stood
A little house, beside a wood,
Where dwelt a worthy man, but poor.
Thither he went, knocked at the door.
The good man came. Saint Swithin said,
“I prithee give a crust of bread
To ease my hunger.”
“Brother,” quoth
The good man, “I am sadly loath
To say” (here tears stood on his cheeks)
“I've had no bread for weeks and weeks,
Save what I've begged. Had I one bit,
I'd gladly give thee half of it.”
“How,” said the Saint, “can one so good
Go lacking of his daily food,
Go lacking means to aid the poor,
Yet weep to turn them from his door?
Here—take this purse. Mark what I say:
Thou'lt find within it every day
Two golden coins.”
Go lacking of his daily food,
Go lacking means to aid the poor,
Yet weep to turn them from his door?
Here—take this purse. Mark what I say:
Thou'lt find within it every day
Two golden coins.”
Years passed. Once more
Saint Swithin knocked upon the door.
The good man came. He'd grown fat
And lusty, like a well-fed cat.
Thereat the Saint was pleased. Quoth he,
“Give me a crust, for charity.”
Saint Swithin knocked upon the door.
The good man came. He'd grown fat
And lusty, like a well-fed cat.
Thereat the Saint was pleased. Quoth he,
“Give me a crust, for charity.”
“A crust, thou say'st? Hut, tut! How now?
Wouldst come a-begging here? I trow,
Thou lazy rascal, thou couldst find
Enough of work hadst thou a mind!
'Tis thine own fault if thou art poor.
Begone, sir!” Bang!—he shut the door.
Saint Swithin slowly scratched his head.Wouldst come a-begging here? I trow,
Thou lazy rascal, thou couldst find
Enough of work hadst thou a mind!
'Tis thine own fault if thou art poor.
Begone, sir!” Bang!—he shut the door.
“Well, I am—humph!—just so,” he said.
“How very different the fact is
'Twixt the profession and the practice!”
A Tale of a Tub
1
You may bring to mind I've sung you a song,Of a man of Haarlem town.
I'll sing of another,—'twill not take long,—
Of equally great renown.
2
“I've read,” said he, “there's a land afar,O'er the boundless rolling sea,
Where fat little pigs ready roasted are;
Now, that is the land for me.
3
Where tarts may be plucked from the wild tart tree,And puddings like pumpkins grow,
Where candies, like pebbles, lie by the sea,—
Now, thither I'll straightway go.”
4
Now, what do you think I've heard it saidWas his boat, his oar, his sail?
A tub, a spoon, and a handkerchief red,
For to breast both calm and gale.
5
So he sailed away, for a livelong day;And the sun was warm and mild,
And the small waves laughed as they seemed to play,
And the sea-gulls clamored wild.
6
So he sailed away, for a livelong day;Till the wind began to roar,
And she waves rose high, and, to briefly say,
He never was heard of more.
H. PYLE.
YE STORY OF A BLVE CHINA PLATE
There was a Cochin Chinaman,
Whose name it was Ah-Lee,
And the same was just as fine a man
As you could wish to see,
For he was rich and strong,
And his queue was extra long,
And he lived on rice and fish and chiccory.
Whose name it was Ah-Lee,
And the same was just as fine a man
As you could wish to see,
For he was rich and strong,
And his queue was extra long,
And he lived on rice and fish and chiccory.
Which he had a lovely daughter,
And her name was Mai-Ri-An,
And the youthful Wang who sought her
Hand was but a poor young man;
So her haughty father said;
“You shall never, never wed
Such a pauper as this penniless young man!”
And her name was Mai-Ri-An,
And the youthful Wang who sought her
Hand was but a poor young man;
So her haughty father said;
“You shall never, never wed
Such a pauper as this penniless young man!”
So the daughter and her lover,
They eloped one summer day,
Which Ah-Lee he did discover,
And pursued without delay;
But the Goddess Loo, I've heard,
Changed each lover to a bird,
And from the bad Ah-Lee they flew away
They eloped one summer day,
Which Ah-Lee he did discover,
And pursued without delay;
But the Goddess Loo, I've heard,
Changed each lover to a bird,
And from the bad Ah-Lee they flew away
Ah me! Ah-Lee; the chance is,
That we all of us may know
Of unpleasant circumstances
We would like to stay, but oh!
The inevitable things
Will take unto them wings,
And will fly where we may never hope to go
I would further like to state,
That the tale which I relate,
You can see on any plate
That was made in Cochin China years ago.
That we all of us may know
Of unpleasant circumstances
We would like to stay, but oh!
The inevitable things
Will take unto them wings,
And will fly where we may never hope to go
I would further like to state,
That the tale which I relate,
You can see on any plate
That was made in Cochin China years ago.
Moral Blindness:
There was an old woman, as I've heard say,
Who owned but a single goose.
And the dame lived over toward Truxton way,
And the animal ran at loose.
It cackled up and it cackled down,
Disturbing the peace of all the town;
Gentle and simple, knight and clown.
From the dawn to the close of day.
Who owned but a single goose.
And the dame lived over toward Truxton way,
And the animal ran at loose.
It cackled up and it cackled down,
Disturbing the peace of all the town;
Gentle and simple, knight and clown.
From the dawn to the close of day.
Another old woman, of not much note,
Lived over toward Truxton way,
Who owned a goat with a shaggy black coat,
As I've heard the neighbours say.
And it was the fear of one and all;
Butting the great, and butting the small,—
No matter whom,—who happened to fall
In the way of this evil goat.
Lived over toward Truxton way,
Who owned a goat with a shaggy black coat,
As I've heard the neighbours say.
And it was the fear of one and all;
Butting the great, and butting the small,—
No matter whom,—who happened to fall
In the way of this evil goat.
Said the first old woman, “This ugly goat
Should never thus run at loose.”
Said the second, “I wish they'd cut the throat
Of that noisy cackling goose.”
And so it happened when e'er that they
Would meet each other upon the way
They'd bicker and bicker she livelong day
In the key of a scolding note.
Should never thus run at loose.”
Said the second, “I wish they'd cut the throat
Of that noisy cackling goose.”
And so it happened when e'er that they
Would meet each other upon the way
They'd bicker and bicker she livelong day
In the key of a scolding note.
But all the neighbours, great and small,
Complained of both with grievous tone.
From which I gather that we all
See other's faults and not our own.
Complained of both with grievous tone.
From which I gather that we all
See other's faults and not our own.
H. PYLE:
OVER CONFIDENCE:
A peacock sat on ye garden wall
(See picture here to ye right),
And ye folk came crowding-great and small—
For it chanced that none in ye town at all
Had ever seen such a sight.
If you'd have been there perhaps you'd have heard,
Ye folk talk thus, as they looked at ye bird:
(See picture here to ye right),
And ye folk came crowding-great and small—
For it chanced that none in ye town at all
Had ever seen such a sight.
If you'd have been there perhaps you'd have heard,
Ye folk talk thus, as they looked at ye bird:
“O crickety!—Law!—
O jimmeny me!—
I never yet saw!—
Who ever did see
Such a beautiful sight in the world before,
Since ye animals marched from ye old ark door?
O! Look at ye spots
In his tail! And ye lots
Of green and of blue in his beautiful wings!
I'd give a new shilling to know if he sings!”
O jimmeny me!—
I never yet saw!—
Who ever did see
Such a beautiful sight in the world before,
Since ye animals marched from ye old ark door?
O! Look at ye spots
In his tail! And ye lots
Of green and of blue in his beautiful wings!
I'd give a new shilling to know if he sings!”
Ye peacock says, “Surely, they'll greatly rejoice,
To hear but a touch of my delicate voice.
(Sings.)
To hear but a touch of my delicate voice.
“O dear! O dear!—
O stop it!—O do!—
We never did hear
Such a hullaballoo!
'Tis worse than ye noise that ye carpenters make
When they sharpen their saws!—Now, for charity sake,
Give over this squalling,
And catermawalling!”
Cried all ye good people who chanced to be near;
Each thrusting a finger-tip into each ear.
O stop it!—O do!—
We never did hear
Such a hullaballoo!
'Tis worse than ye noise that ye carpenters make
When they sharpen their saws!—Now, for charity sake,
Give over this squalling,
And catermawalling!”
Cried all ye good people who chanced to be near;
Each thrusting a finger-tip into each ear.
You see ye poor dunce had attempted to shine
In a way that was out of his natural line.
In a way that was out of his natural line.
H. Pyle.
The Force of Need
Hey, Robin! ho, Robin!
Singing on the tree,
I will give you white bread,
If you will come to me.”
Singing on the tree,
I will give you white bread,
If you will come to me.”
“Oh! the little breeze is singing
To the nodding daisies white;
And the tender grass is springing,
And the sun is warm and bright;
And my little mate is waiting
In the budding hedge for me;
So, on the whole, I'll not accept
Your kindly courtesy.”
To the nodding daisies white;
And the tender grass is springing,
And the sun is warm and bright;
And my little mate is waiting
In the budding hedge for me;
So, on the whole, I'll not accept
Your kindly courtesy.”
“Hey, Robin! ho, Robin!
Now the north winds blow;
Wherefore do you come here,
In she ice and snow?”
Now the north winds blow;
Wherefore do you come here,
In she ice and snow?”
“The wind is raw, the flowers are dead,
The frost is on the thorn,
So I'll gladly take a crust of bread,
And come where it is warm.”
The frost is on the thorn,
So I'll gladly take a crust of bread,
And come where it is warm.”
Oh, Children! little Children!
Have you ever chanced to see
One beg for crust that sneered at crumb
In bright prosperity?
Have you ever chanced to see
One beg for crust that sneered at crumb
In bright prosperity?
A Disappointment.
HeI prithee, tell me whre you live?
Oh Maid, so sweet and rare!”
She
“I am ye miller's daughter, sir;
And live just over shre”
He
“Of all ye Maids I ever saw,
You are beyond compare.”
She
“Oh; thank you, sir! Oh; thank you, sir!
Your words are very fair.”
He
“So I wld ask you something, now;
If I might only dare”
She
“Now, you may ask me wht you please,
For anything I care.”
He
“Then will you marry me? For we
Wld make a goodly pair.”
She
“I thank you sir; your offer, it
Is most extremely rare.
But as I am already wed,
You'r late, sir, for ye Fair.”
At ths ye Bachelor walked away;
And talked to himself of tht Lass so gay—
“Her hair is very decidedly red;
And her eyes have somewhat of a cast in her head;
And her feet are large; and her hands are coarse;
And, without I'm mistaken, her voice is hoarse.
'Tis a bargain of whch I am very well rid;
I am glad, on ye whole, I escaped as I did.”
And talked to himself of tht Lass so gay—
“Her hair is very decidedly red;
And her eyes have somewhat of a cast in her head;
And her feet are large; and her hands are coarse;
And, without I'm mistaken, her voice is hoarse.
'Tis a bargain of whch I am very well rid;
I am glad, on ye whole, I escaped as I did.”
Howard Pyle.
Ye sad story concerning one innocent little Lamb and four wicked Wolves:
A little lamb was gamboling,
Upon a pleasant day,
And four grey wolves came shambling,
And stopped to see it play
In the sun.
Said the lamb, “Perhaps I may
Charm these creatures with my play,
And they'll let me go away,
When I've done.”
Upon a pleasant day,
And four grey wolves came shambling,
And stopped to see it play
In the sun.
Said the lamb, “Perhaps I may
Charm these creatures with my play,
And they'll let me go away,
When I've done.”
The wolves, they sat asmiling at
The playful thing, to see
How exceedingly beguiling that
Its pretty play could be.
See it hop!
But its strength began to wane,
Though it gamboled on in pain,
Till it finally was fain,
For to stop.
The playful thing, to see
How exceedingly beguiling that
Its pretty play could be.
See it hop!
But its strength began to wane,
Though it gamboled on in pain,
Till it finally was fain,
For to stop.
Oh! then there was a munching,
Of that tender little thing,
And a crunching and a scrunching.
As you'ld munch a chicken wing.
No avail
Was its cunning, merry play
For the only thing, they say,
That was left of it that day,
Was its tail.
So with me; when I am done,
And the critics have begun,
All they'll leave me of my fun
'Ll be the tale.
Of that tender little thing,
And a crunching and a scrunching.
As you'ld munch a chicken wing.
No avail
Was its cunning, merry play
For the only thing, they say,
That was left of it that day,
Was its tail.
So with me; when I am done,
And the critics have begun,
All they'll leave me of my fun
'Ll be the tale.
H. Pyle
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