From Franklin Hyde’s adventure, learn
To pass your Leisure Time
In Cleanly Merriment, and turn
From Mud and Ooze and Slime
And every form of Nastiness—
But, on the other Hand,
Children in ordinary Dress
May always play with Sand.
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Godolphin Horne,
Who was cursed with the Sin of Pride, and Became a Boot-Black.
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Godolphin Horne was Nobly Born;
He held the Human Race in Scorn,
And lived with all his Sisters where
His father lived, in Berkeley Square.
And oh! the Lad was Deathly Proud!
He never shook your Hand or Bowed,
But merely smirked and nodded
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thus:
How perfectly ridiculous!
Alas! That such Affected Tricks
Should flourish in a Child of Six!
(For such was Young Godolphin’s age).
Just then, the Court required a Page,
Whereat
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the Lord High Chamberlain
(The Kindest and the Best of Men),
He went good-naturedly and
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took
A Perfectly Enormous Book
Called People Qualified to Be
Attendant on His Majesty,
And murmured, as he scanned the list
(To see that no one should be missed),
“There’s
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William Coutts has got the Flue,
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And Billy Higgs would never do,
And Guy image de Vere is far too young,
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And ... wasn’t D’Alton’s Father hung?
And as for Alexander Byng!— ...
I think I know the kind of thing,
A Churchman, cleanly, nobly born,
Come
let us say Godolphin Horne?”
But hardly had he said the word
When Murmurs of Dissent were heard.
The King of Iceland’s Eldest Son
Said, “Thank you! I am taking none!”
The Aged Duchess of Athlone
Remarked, in her sub-acid tone,
“I doubt if He is what we need!”
With which the Bishops all agreed;
And even Lady Mary Flood
(So Kind, and oh! so really good)
Said, “No! He wouldn’t do at all,
He’d make us feel a lot too small,”
The Chamberlain said,
“ ... Well, well, well!
No doubt you’re right.... One cannot tell!”
He took his Gold and Diamond Pen
And
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Scratched Godolphin out again.
So now Godolphin is the Boy
Who blacks the Boots at the Savoy.
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Algernon,
Who played with a Loaded Gun, and, on missing his Sister was reprimanded by his Father.
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Young Algernon, the Doctor’s Son,
Was
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playing with a Loaded Gun.
He pointed it towards his sister,
Aimed very carefully, but
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Missed her!
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His Father, who was standing near,
The Loud Explosion chanced to Hear,
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And reprimanded Algernon
For playing with a Loaded Gun.
Hildebrand,
Who was frightened by a Passing Motor, and was brought to Reason.
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“Oh, Murder! What was that, Papa!”
“My child,
It was a Motor-Car,
A Most Ingenious Toy!
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Designed to Captivate and Charm
Much rather than to rouse Alarm
In any English Boy.
“What would your Great Grandfather who
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Was Aide-de-Camp to General Brue,
And lost a leg at
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Waterloo,
And
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Quatre-Bras and
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Ligny too!
And died at Trafalgar!—
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What would he have remarked to hear
His Young Descendant shriek with fear,
Because he happened to be near
A Harmless Motor-Car!
But do not fret about it! Come!
We’ll off to Town
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And purchase some!”
Lord Lundy,
Who was too Freely Moved to Tears, and thereby ruined his Political Career.
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Lord Lundy from his earliest years
Was far too freely moved to Tears.
For instance if his Mother said,
“Lundy! It’s time to go to Bed!”
He bellowed like a Little Turk.
Or if
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his father Lord Dunquerque
Said “Hi!” in a Commanding Tone,
“Hi, Lundy! Leave the Cat alone!”
Lord Lundy, letting go its tail,
Would raise so terrible a wail
As moved
His
Grandpapa
the
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Duke
To utter the severe rebuke:
“When I, Sir! was a little Boy,
An Animal was not a Toy!”
His father’s Elder Sister, who
Was married to a Parvenoo,
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Confided to Her Husband, “Drat!
The Miserable, Peevish Brat!
Why don’t they drown the Little Beast?”
Suggestions which, to say the least,
Are not what we expect to hear
From Daughters of an English Peer.
His grandmamma, His Mother’s Mother,
Who had some dignity or other,
The Garter, or no matter what,
I can’t remember all the Lot!
Said “Oh! that I were Brisk and Spry
To give him that for which to cry!”
(An empty wish, alas! for she
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Was Blind and nearly ninety-three).
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The
Dear Old Butler
thought—but there!
I really neither know nor care
For what the Dear Old Butler thought!
In my opinion, Butlers ought
To know their place, and not to play
The Old Retainer night and day
I’m getting tired and so are you,
Let’s cut the Poem into two!
Lord Lundy
(SECOND CANTO)
It happened to Lord Lundy then,
As happens to so many men:
Towards the age of twenty-six,
They shoved him into politics;
In which profession he commanded
The income that his rank demanded
In turn as Secretary for
India, the Colonies, and War.
But very soon his friends began
To doubt if he were quite the man:
Thus, if a member rose to say
(As members do from day to day),
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“Arising out of that reply ...!”
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Lord Lundy would begin to cry.
A Hint at harmless little jobs
Would shake him with convulsive sobs.
While as for Revelations, these
Would simply bring him to his knees,
And leave him whimpering like a child.
It drove his Colleagues raving wild!
They let him sink from Post to Post,
From fifteen hundred at the most
To eight, and barely six—and then
To be Curator of Big Ben!...
And finally there came a Threat
To oust him from the Cabinet!
The Duke—his aged grand-sire—bore
The shame till he could bear no more.
He rallied his declining powers,
Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers,
And bitterly addressed him thus—
“Sir! you have disappointed us!
We had intended you to be
The next Prime Minister but three:
The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:
The Middle Class was quite prepared.
But as it is!... My language fails!
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Go out and govern New South Wales!”
The Aged Patriot groaned and died:
And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!
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Rebecca,
Who slammed Doors for Fun and Perished Miserably.
A Trick that everyone abhors
In Little Girls is slamming Doors.
A
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Wealthy Banker’s
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Little Daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this Furious Sport.
She would deliberately go
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And Slam the door like
Billy-Ho!
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To make
her
Uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart,
But only rather rude and wild:
She was an aggravating child....
It happened that a Marble Bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the Door this little Lamb
Had carefully prepared to Slam,
And Down it came! It knocked her flat!
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It laid her out! She looked like that.
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Her funeral Sermon (which was long
And followed by a Sacred Song)
Mentioned her Virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her Vices too,
And showed the Dreadful End of One
Who goes and slams the door for Fun.
The children who were brought to hear
The awful Tale from far and near
Were much impressed,
and inly swore
They never more would slam the Door.
—As often they had done before.
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George,
Who played with a Dangerous Toy, and suffered a Catastrophe of considerable Dimensions.
When George’s Grandmamma was told
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That George had been as good as Gold,
She Promised in the Afternoon
To buy him an Immense BALLOON.
And
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so she did; but when it came,
It got into the candle flame,
And being of a dangerous sort
Exploded
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with a loud report!
The Lights went out! The Windows broke!
The Room was filled with reeking smoke.
And in the darkness shrieks and yells
Were mingled with Electric Bells,
And falling masonry and groans,
And crunching, as of broken bones,
And dreadful shrieks, when, worst of all,
The House itself began to fall!
It tottered, shuddering to and fro,
Then crashed into the street below—
Which happened to be Savile Row.
When Help arrived, among the Dead
Were
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Cousin Mary,
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Little Fred,
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The Footmen
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(both of them),
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The Groom,
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The man that cleaned the Billiard-Room,
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The Chaplain, and
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The Still-Room Maid.
And I am dreadfully afraid
That Monsieur Champignon, the Chef,
Will now be
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permanently deaf—
And both his
Aides
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are much the same;
While George, who was in part to blame,
Received, you will regret to hear,
A nasty lump
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behind the ear.
