Читать книгу Nye and Riley's Wit and Humor (Poems and Yarns) - Nye Bill - Страница 5

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"Ki-yi!" said Mr. Squincher,

As in contemplative pose,

He stood before the looking-glass

And burnished up his nose,

And brushed the dandruff from a span-

Spick-splinter suit of clothes,—

"Why, bless you, Mr. Squincher,

You're as handsome as a rose!"

"There are some," continued Squincher,

As he raised upon his toes

To catch his full reflection,

And the fascinating bows

That graced his legs,—"I reckon

There are some folks never knows

How beautiful is human legs

In pantaloons like those!"

"But ah!" sighed Mr. Squincher,

As a ghastly phantom 'rose

And leered above his shoulder

Like the deadliest of foes,—

With fleshless arms and fingers,

And a skull, with glistening rows

Of teeth that crunched and gritted,—

"It's my tailor, I suppose!"

They found him in the morning—

So the mystic legend goes—

With the placid face still smiling

In its statuesque repose;—

With a lily in his left hand,

And in his right a rose,

With their fragrance curling upward

Through a nimbus 'round his nose.