 | Laughter from a Cloud |  |
103
WORD AND QUESTION GAME
[I have heard no word of my darling Jim]
I have heard no word of my darling Jim,
And I sit and weep by the sea;
I am thinking and dreaming all day of him,
Perhaps he is thinking of me.
And I sit and weep by the sea;
I am thinking and dreaming all day of him,
Perhaps he is thinking of me.
Perhaps he went wandering over the moor,
And fell down a dark ravine;
Perhaps he has gone on a cheap Cook's tour,
And has married a dusky queen.
And fell down a dark ravine;
Perhaps he has gone on a cheap Cook's tour,
And has married a dusky queen.
Perhaps in a motor-car, far and fleet,
He is scudding into the night;
Perhaps he is sitting with wet, wet feet
By the river to wait for a bite.
He is scudding into the night;
Perhaps he is sitting with wet, wet feet
By the river to wait for a bite.
Perhaps he's enlisted in the Police,
Or fallen in the soup tureen;
But my weary heart aching will never cease,
And its O for the might-have-been!
Or fallen in the soup tureen;
But my weary heart aching will never cease,
And its O for the might-have-been!
Send him back ye winds and ye waves so sad,
Send him back ye Sprites and Jinns;
For he's got my bottle of hair pomade,
And my box of safety-pins.
Send him back ye Sprites and Jinns;
For he's got my bottle of hair pomade,
And my box of safety-pins.
Question: What has become of Jim?
Word: Safety-pins.
104
THE HAUNTED HOUSE
His body's dust and ashes,
And he hasn't got no money;
He clambers in through the window-sashes
And squeaks like a tortured bunny;
He hides in the flapping curtain,
And he shouts in the singing flame;
He's a nuisance in anyone's house, that's certain,
But I don't know what's his name.
And he hasn't got no money;
He clambers in through the window-sashes
And squeaks like a tortured bunny;
He hides in the flapping curtain,
And he shouts in the singing flame;
He's a nuisance in anyone's house, that's certain,
But I don't know what's his name.
When I go and get my candle,
And crawl up to bed at night,
He groans when I turn the parlour handle,
And whisks up the stair in white.
I can't tell you what he's after,
Or what is his little game;
I've had many a fright from his distant laughter,
But I don't know what's his name.
And crawl up to bed at night,
He groans when I turn the parlour handle,
And whisks up the stair in white.
I can't tell you what he's after,
Or what is his little game;
I've had many a fright from his distant laughter,
But I don't know what's his name.
Is he solid or merely vapour?
I think he's a blooming ghost.
I wish I could pack him in strong brown paper
And send him away by post.
My life is a burden to me,
I think it's a horrid shame.
The screams of that bogey they go right through me,
But I don't know what's his name.
I think he's a blooming ghost.
I wish I could pack him in strong brown paper
And send him away by post.
105
I think it's a horrid shame.
The screams of that bogey they go right through me,
But I don't know what's his name.
Question: What's his name?
Word: Ashes.
106
[“What is the use of waiting?”]
“What is the use of waiting?”
I heard a blackbird say,
“The flowers are out, and without a doubt
This is the month of May;
So what is the use of waiting?
The time has come for mating,
And I'm off to find a wife to my mind
On this beautiful golden day.”
I heard a blackbird say,
“The flowers are out, and without a doubt
This is the month of May;
So what is the use of waiting?
The time has come for mating,
And I'm off to find a wife to my mind
On this beautiful golden day.”
“What is the use of waiting?”
Said a man in a parachute,
“The balloon is bust, and I can't adjust
The ribs of this tangled brute.
So what is the use of waiting?
I shall have to be gravitating;
But a smaller jump and less of a bump
On the hard round earth would suit.”
Said a man in a parachute,
“The balloon is bust, and I can't adjust
The ribs of this tangled brute.
So what is the use of waiting?
I shall have to be gravitating;
But a smaller jump and less of a bump
On the hard round earth would suit.”
“What is the use of waiting?”
Said a man in evening dress,
“The men I wait on they gorge like Satan,
And can only say ‘More’ or ‘Yes.’
So what is the use of waiting?
And forking and knifing and plating?
I'd rather dwell in a prison cell
Where the customers eat less.”
Said a man in evening dress,
“The men I wait on they gorge like Satan,
And can only say ‘More’ or ‘Yes.’
107
And forking and knifing and plating?
I'd rather dwell in a prison cell
Where the customers eat less.”
Question: What is the use of waiting?
Word: Parachute.
108
[How far is it to London? Well, my friend]
How far is it to London? Well, my friend,
I do not answer questions till I know
That he who asks them has a worthy end;
If I should tell you truly, will you go?
I hate a talkative and idle knave
With silly questions always on his lips:
“Who is your hatter?” “Where's Cock Robin's grave?”
“What was the reason of the late eclipse?”
You seem to me a promising young man,
And if you really want to get away
I shall be glad to help you if I can,
I can't stand here debating all the day.
A place there is to which I bid you go:
It is not London; it is Jericho!
I do not answer questions till I know
That he who asks them has a worthy end;
If I should tell you truly, will you go?
I hate a talkative and idle knave
With silly questions always on his lips:
“Who is your hatter?” “Where's Cock Robin's grave?”
“What was the reason of the late eclipse?”
You seem to me a promising young man,
And if you really want to get away
I shall be glad to help you if I can,
I can't stand here debating all the day.
A place there is to which I bid you go:
It is not London; it is Jericho!
Question: How far is it to London?
Word: Eclipse.
109
[When I go to my wardrobe and pull out my clo'es]
When I go to my wardrobe and pull out my clo'es,
I hang them on chairs and survey them in rows,
And which will become me best who the deuce knows?
I hang them on chairs and survey them in rows,
And which will become me best who the deuce knows?
My complexion is brown, and my eyes are pea-green,
So the thing that will suit me (I learn from The Queen),
Is a red shooting-coat trimmed with ultramarine.
So the thing that will suit me (I learn from The Queen),
Is a red shooting-coat trimmed with ultramarine.
What's the use of discussing the hundred best books,
Or the hundred best garments? What counts is your looks;
The food is all right if you see to the cooks.
Or the hundred best garments? What counts is your looks;
The food is all right if you see to the cooks.
So Gammon and Sneck up and Fiddle-de-dee,
With your lubberly Lubbocks and cultured high tea!
The hundred best books are the books that suit me.
With your lubberly Lubbocks and cultured high tea!
The hundred best books are the books that suit me.
Question: What are the hundred best books?
Word: Wardrobe.
110
[Life rang the bell to call the people in]
Life rang the bell to call the people in;
The play was played by Folly, Pride, and Sin;
Old Age, with fingers trembling and uncertain,
Turned off the gas, and Death let down the curtain.
The play was played by Folly, Pride, and Sin;
Old Age, with fingers trembling and uncertain,
Turned off the gas, and Death let down the curtain.
Question: Who rang the bell?
Word: Life.
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