Читать книгу A Parody Anthology - Wells Carolyn - Страница 19

"YOU are cold, Father William," the young man cried,

"You shake and you shiver, I say;

You've a cold, Father William, your nose it is red,

Now tell me the reason, I pray."

"In the days of my youth," Father William replied —

(He was a dissembling old man)

"I put lumps of ice in my grandpapa's boots,

And snowballed my Aunt Mary Ann."

"Go along, Father William," the young man cried,

"You are trying it on, sir, to-day;

What makes your teeth chatter like bone castanets?

Come tell me the reason, I pray."

"In the days of my youth," Father William replied,

"I went to the North Pole with Parry;

And now, my sweet boy, the Arc-tic doloreaux

Plays with this old man the Old Harry."

"Get out! Father William," the young man cried.

"Come, you shouldn't go on in this way;

You are funny, but still you've a frightful bad cold —

Now tell me the reason, I pray."

"I am cold, then, dear youth," Father William replied;

"I've a cold, my impertinent son,

Because for some weeks my coals have been bought

At forty-eight shillings a ton!"

"YOU are old, Father William," the young man said,

"And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head —

Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,

"I feared it might injure the brain;

But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,

And grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door —

Pray what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,

"I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment – one shilling the box —

Allow me to sell you a couple."

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak

For anything tougher than suet;

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak;

Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,

And argued each case with my wife;

And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw,

Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever;

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose —

What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions and that is enough,"

Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"

DOWN the green hill-side fro' the castle window

Lady Jane spied Bill Amaranth a-workin';

Day by day watched him go about his ample

Nursery garden.

Cabbages thriv'd there, wi' a mort o' green-stuff —

Kidney beans, broad beans, onions, tomatoes,

Artichokes, seakale, vegetable marrows,

Early potatoes.

Lady Jane cared not very much for all these:

What she cared much for was a glimpse o' Willum

Strippin' his brown arms wi' a view to horti-

Cultural effort.

Little guessed Willum, never extra-vain, that

Up the green hill-side, i' the gloomy castle,

Feminine eyes could so delight to view his

Noble proportions.

Only one day while, in an innocent mood,

Moppin' his brow (cos 'twas a trifle sweaty)

With a blue kerchief – lo, he spies a white un

Coyly responding.

Oh, delightsome Love! Not a jot do you care

For the restrictions set on human inter-

Course by cold-blooded social refiners;

Nor do I, neither.

Day by day, peepin' fro' behind the bean-sticks,

Willum observed that scrap o' white a-wavin',

Till his hot sighs out-growin' all repression

Busted his weskit.

Lady Jane's guardian was a haughty Peer, who

Clung to old creeds and had a nasty temper;

Can we blame Willum that he hardly cared to

Risk a refusal?

Year by year found him busy 'mid the bean-sticks,

Wholly uncertain how on earth to take steps.

Thus for eighteen years he beheld the maiden

Wave fro' her window.

But the nineteenth spring, i' the castle post-bag,

Came by book-post Bill's catalogue o' seedlings

Mark'd wi' blue ink at "Paragraphs relatin'

Mainly to Pumpkins."

"W. A. can," so the Lady Jane read,

"Strongly commend that very noble Gourd, the

Lady Jane, first-class medal, ornamental;

Grows to a great height."

Scarce a year arter, by the scented hedgerows —

Down the mown hill-side, fro' the castle gateway —

Came a long train and, i' the midst, a black bier,

Easily shouldered.

"Whose is yon corse that, thus adorned wi' gourd leaves

Forth ye bear with slow step?" A mourner answer'd,

"'Tis the poor clay-cold body Lady Jane grew

Tired to abide in."

"Delve my grave quick, then, for I die to-morrow.

Delve it one furlong fro' the kidney bean-sticks,

Where I may dream she's goin' on precisely

As she was used to."

Hardly died Bill when, fro' the Lady Jane's grave,

Crept to his white death-bed a lovely pumpkin:

Climb'd the house wall and over-arched his head wi'

Billowy verdure.

Simple this tale! – but delicately perfumed

As the sweet roadside honeysuckle. That's why,

Difficult though its metre was to tackle,

I'm glad I wrote it.