Chapter VII

Robby and Bobby and Billy and Ned,
Philip and Peter and Guy,
They said, every one, that it wasn't much fun
Getting ready for Fourth of July.
They crept to their beds and they laid down their heads,
And they slept till the sun was on high,
And when they awaked, so sorely they ached,
That they just could do nothing but cry.

THE DANDY CAT.

To Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Tabby de Sly
His mistress remarked one day,
"I'm tormented, my cat, both by mouse and by rat:
Come rid me of them, I pray!

"For though you're a cat of renowned descent,
And your kittenhood's long been gone,
Yet never a trace of the blood of your race
In battle or siege you've shown."

Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Tabby de Sly
Arose from his downy bed.
He washed himself o'er, from his knightly paw
To the top of his knightly head.

And he curled his whiskers, and combed his hair,
And put on his perfumed gloves;
And his sword he girt on, which had never been drawn
Save to dazzle the eyes of his loves.

And when he had cast one admiring glance
On the looking-glass tall and fair,
To the pantry he passed; but he stood aghast,
For lo! the pantry was bare!

The pickles, the cookies, the pies were gone!
And naught remained on the shelf
Save the bone of a ham, which lay cold and calm,
The ghost of its former self.

Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin stood sore dismayed,
And he looked for the mice and rats.
But they, every one, had been long since gone
Far, far from the reach of cats.

For while he was donning his satin pelisse,
And his ribbons and laces gay,
They had finished their feast, without hurry the least,
And had tranquilly trotted away.

The mistress of Green-eyes Grimalkin de Sly,
A woman full stern was she.
She came to the door, and she rated him sore
When the state of the case she did see.

She grasped him, spite of his knightly blood,
By the tip of his knightly tail;
His adornments she stripped, and his body she dipped
Three times in the water-pail.

She plunged him thrice 'neath the icy flood,
Then turned him out-doors to dry;
And terror and cold on his feelings so told,
That he really was like to die.

And now in this world 'twould be hard to find,
Although you looked low and high,
A cat who cares less for the beauties of dress
Than Sir Green-eyes Grimalkin de Sly.

A PARTY.

On Willy's birthday, as you see,
These little boys have come to tea.
But, oh! how very sad to tell!
They have not been behaving well.
For ere they took a single bite,
They all began to scold and fight.

The little boy whose name was Ned,
He wanted jelly on his bread;
The little boy whose name was Sam,
He vowed he would have damson jam;
The little boy whose name was Phil
Said, "I'll have honey! _Yes_--I--WILL!!"

BUT--

The little boy whose name was Paul,
While they were quarrelling, ate it all.

JUMBO JEE.

There were some kings, in number three,
Who built the tower of Jumbo Jee.
They built it up to a monstrous height,
At eleven o'clock on a Thursday night.

They built it up for forty miles,
With mutual bows and pleasing smiles;
And then they sat on the edge to rest,
And partook of lunch with a cheerful zest.

And first they ate of the porkly pie,
And wondered why they had built so high;
And next they drank of the ginger wine,
Which gave their noses a regal shine.

They drank to the health of Jumbo Jee,
Until they could neither hear nor see.
They drank to the health of Jumbo Land,
Until they could neither walk nor stand.

They drank to the health of Jumbo Tower
Until they really could drink no more;
And then they sank in a blissful swoon,
And flung their crowns at the rising moon.

AN INDIAN BALLAD.

Whopsy Whittlesey Whanko Whee,
Howly old, growly old Indian he,
Lived on the hills of the Mungo-Paws,
With all his pappooses and all his squaws.
There was Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose,
And Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering Moose:
There was Pecksy Wiggin, and Squaw-pan too,
But the fairest of all was Michiky Moo.
Michiky Moo, the Savory Tart,
Pride of Whittlesey Whanko's heart;
Michiky Moo, the Cherokee Pie,
Apple of Whittlesey Whanko's eye.
Whittlesey Whanko loved her so
That the other squaws did with envy glow;
And each said to the other, "Now, what shall we do
To spoil the beauty of Michiky Moo?"
"We'll lure her away to the mountain top,
And there her head we will neatly chop."
"We'll wile her away to the forest's heart,
And shoot her down with a poisoned dart."
"We'll lead her away to the river-side,
And there she shall be the Manito's bride."
"Oh! one of these things we will surely do,
And we'll spoil the beauty of Michiky Moo."
"Michiky Moo, thou Cherokee Pie,
Away with me to the mountain high!"
"Nay, my sister, I will not roam.
I'm safer and happier here at home."
"Michiky Moo, thou Savory Tart,
Away with me to the forest's heart!"
"Nay! my sister, I will not go;
I fear the dart of some hidden foe."
"Michiky Moo, old Whittlesey's pride,
Away with me to the river-side!"
"Nay! my sister, for fear I fall!
And wouldst thou come if thou heardst me call?"
"Now choose thee, choose thee thy way of death!
For soon thou shalt draw thy latest breath!
We all have sworn that this day we'll see
The last, proud Michiky Moo, of thee!"
Whittlesey Whanko, hidden near,
Each and all of these words did hear.
He summoned his braves, all painted for war,
And gave them in charge each guilty squaw:
"Take Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose;
Take Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering Moose;
Take Peeksy Wiggin, and Squaw-pan too,
And leave me alone with my Michiky Moo.
This one away to the mountain top,
And there her head ye shall neatly chop;
This one away to the forest's heart,
And shoot her down with a poisoned dart;
This one away to the river-side,
And there she shall be the Manito's bride;
Away with them all, the woodlands through!
For I'll have no squaw save Michiky Moo."
Away went the braves, without question or pause,
And they soon put an end to the guilty squaws.
They pleasantly smiled when the deed was done,
Saying, "Ping-ko-chanky! oh! isn't it fun!"
And then they all danced the Buffalo dance,
And capered about with ambiguous prance,
While they drank to the health of the lovers so true,
Bold Whittlesey Whanko and Michiky Moo.

THE EGG.

Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it,--
A nice little new-laid egg?
My grandmamma told me to run to the barn-yard,
And see if just one I could beg.

"Moolly-cow, Moolly-cow, down in the meadow,
Have you any eggs, I pray?"
The Moolly-cow stares as if I were crazy,
And solemnly stalks away.

"Oh! Doggie, Doggie, perhaps you may have it,
That nice little egg for me."
But Doggie just wags his tail and capers,
And never an egg has he.

"Now, Dobbin, Dobbin, I'm sure you must have one,
Hid down in your manger there."
But Dobbin lays back his ears and whinnies,
With "Come and look, if you dare!"

"Piggywig, Piggywig, grunting and squealing,
Are you crying 'Fresh eggs for sale'?"
No! Piggy, you're very cold and unfeeling,
With that impudent quirk in your tail.

"You wise old Gobbler, you look so knowing,
I'm sure you can find me an egg.
You stupid old thing! just to say 'Gobble-gobble!'
And balance yourself on one leg."

Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it,--
That little white egg so small?
I've asked every animal here in the barn-yard,
And they won't give me any at all.

But after I'd hunted until I was tired,
I found--not one egg, but ten!
And you _never_ could guess where they all were hidden,--
Right under our old speckled hen!

WOULDN'T.

She _wouldn't_ have on her naughty bib!
She _wouldn't_ get into her naughty crib!
She _wouldn't_ do this, and she _wouldn't_ do that,
And she _would_ put her foot in her Sunday hat.

She _wouldn't_ look over her picture-book!
She _wouldn't_ run out to help the cook!
She _wouldn't_ be petted or coaxed or teased,
And she _would_ do _exactly whatever_ she pleased.

She _wouldn't_ have naughty rice to eat!
She _wouldn't_ be gentle and good and sweet!
She _wouldn't_ give me one single kiss,
And pray what could we do with a girl like this?

We tickled her up, and we tickled her down,
From her toddling toes to her curling crown.
And we kissed her and tossed her, until she was fain
To promise she wouldn't say "wouldn't" again.

WILL-O'-THE-WISP.

"Will-o'-the-wisp! Will-o'-the-wisp!
Show me your lantern true!
Over the meadow and over the hill,
Gladly I'll follow you.
Never I'll murmur nor ask to rest,
And ever I'll be your friend,
If you'll only give me the pot of gold
That lies at your journey's end."

Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp,
Lighted his lantern true;
Over the meadow and over the hill,
Away and away he flew.
And away and away went the poor little boy,
Trudging along so bold,
And thinking of naught but the journey's end,
And the wonderful pot of gold.

Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp,
Flew down to a lonely swamp;
He put out his lantern and vanished away
In the evening chill and damp.
And the poor little boy went shivering home,
Wet and tired and cold;
He had come, alas! to his journey's end,
But where was the pot of gold?

NONSENSE VERSES.

I.

Nicholas Ned,
He lost his head,
And put a turnip on instead;
But then, ah me!
He could not see,
So he thought it was night, and he went to bed.

II.

Ponsonby Perks,
He fought with Turks,
Performing many wonderful works;
He killed over forty,
High-minded and haughty,
And cut off their heads with smiles and smirks.