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Mr. Broom was in blue (with a sash).
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
And they all sang a song!
II
“O Shovely so lovely!” the Poker he sang,
“You have perfectly conquered my heart!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you’re pleased
with my song,
I will feed you with cold apple tart!
When you scrape up the coals with a delicate
sound
You enrapture my life with delight!
Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round!
And your shape is so slender and bright!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
Ain’t you pleased with my song?”
III
“Alas! Mr. Broom!» sighed the Tongs in his
song.
O is it because I’m so thin,
And my legs are so long – Ding-a-dong!
Ding-a-dong!
That you don’t care about me a pin?
Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
Ah! why don’t you heed my complaint!
Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
Because you are covered with paint?
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
You are certainly wrong!”
IV
Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
“What nonsense you’re singing today!”
Said the Shovel, “I’ll certainly hit you a band!”
Said the Broom, “And I’ll sweep you away!”
So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as
he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain;
But they put on the kettle, and little by little,
They all became happy again.
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
There’s the end of my song.
The Nutcrackers and the Sugar-tongs
I
The Nutcrackers sate by a plate on the table,
The Sugar-tongs sate by a plate at his side;
And Nutcrackers said, “Don’t you wish we were able
Along the blue hills and green meadows to ride?
Must we drag on this stupid existence fo ever,
So idle and weary, so full of remorse, —
While every one else takes his pleasure, and never
Seems happy unless he is riding a horse?
II
Don’t you think we could ride without being instructed?
Without any saddle, or bridle, or spur?
Our legs are so long, and so aptly constructed,
I’m sure that an accident could not occur.
Let us all of a sudden hop down from the table,
And hustle downstairs, and each jump on a horse!
Shall we try? Shall we go? Do you think we are able?”
The Sugar-tongs answered distinctly, “Of course!”
III
So down the long staircase they hopped in a minute,
The Sugar-tongs snapped, and the Crackers said “crack!”
The stable was open, the horses were in it;
Each took out a pony, and jumped on his back.
The Cat in a fright scrambled out of a doorway,
The Mice tumbled out of a bundle of hay,
The brown and white Rats, and the black ones from Norway,
Screamed out, “They are taken the horses away!”
IV
The whole of the household was filled with amazement,
The Cups and the Saucers danced madly about,
The Plates and the Dishes looked out of the casement,
The Saltcellar stood on his head with a shout,
The spoons with a clatter looked out of the lattice,
The Mustard-pot climbed up the Gooseberry Pies,
The Soup-ladle peeped through a heap of Veal Patties,
And squeaked with a ladle-like scream of surprise.
V
The Frying-pan said, “It’s an awful delusion!”
The Tea-kettle hissed and grew black in the face;
And they all rushed downstairs in the wildest confusion,
To sea the great Nutcracker-Sugar-tong race.
And out of the stable, with screamings and laughter,
(Their ponies were cream-coloured, speckled with brown,)
The Nutcrackers first, and the Sugar-tongs after,
Rode all round the yard, and then all round the town.
VI
They rode through he street, and they rode by the station,
They galloped away to the beautiful shore;
In silence they rode, and «made no observation»,
Save this: “We will never go back any more!”
And still you might hear, till they rode out of hearing,
The Sugar-tongs snap, and the Crackers say “crack!”
Till far in the distance their forms disappearing,
They faded away. – And they never come back!
The new vestments
There lived an old man in the Kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
He opened the door, and walked into the street.
By way of a hat, he’d a loaf of Brown Bread,
In the middle of which he inserted his head;—
His Shirt was made up of no end of dead Mice,
The warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and nice;—
His Drawers were of Rabbit-skins;—so were his Shoes;—
His Stockings were skins,—but it is not known whose;—
His Waistcoat and Trousers were made of Pork Chops;—
His Buttons were Jujubes, and Chocolate Drops;—
His Coat was all Pancakes with Jam for a border,
And a girdle of Biscuits to keep it in order;
And he wore over all, as a screen from bad weather,
A Cloak of green Cabbage-leaves stitched all together.
He had walked a short way, when he heard a great noise,
Of all sorts of Beasticles, Birdlings, and Boys;—
And from every long street and dark lane in the town
Beasts, Birdles, and Boys in a tumult rushed down.
Two Cows and a half ate his Cabbage-leaf Cloak;—
Four Apes seized his Girdle, which vanished like smoke;
Three Kids ate up half of his Pancaky Coat,—
And the tails were devour’d by an ancient He Goat;—
An army of Dogs in a twinkling tore up his
Pork Waistcoat and Trousers to give to their Puppies;—
And while they were growling, and mumbling the Chops,
Ten Boys prigged the Jujubes and Chocolate drops.
He tried to run back to his house, but in vain,
For Scores of fat Pigs came again and again;—
They rushed out of stables and hovels and doors,—
They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawers;—
And now from the housetops with screechings descend
Striped, spotted, white, black, and gray Cats without end:
They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat,—
When Crows, Ducks, and Hens made a mincemeat of that;—
They speedily flew at his sleeves in a trice,
And utterly tore up his Shirt of dead Mice;—
They swallowed the last of his Shirt with a squall,—
Whereon he ran home with no clothes on at all.
And he said to himself, as he bolted the door,
“I will not wear a similar dress any more,
Any more, any more, any more, never more!”
The Pobble who has no toes
I
The Pobble who has no toes
Has once as many, as we;
When they said, “Some day you may lose
them all;” —
Hereplied, – “Fish fiddle de-dee!”
And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink,
Lavender water tinged with pink,
For she said, “The World in general knows
There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!”
II
The Pobble who has no toes,
Swam across the Bristol Channel;
But before he set out he wrapped his nose,
In a piece of scarlet flannel.
For his Aunt Jobiska said, “No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it’s perfectly known that a Pobble’s toes
Are safe, – provided he minds his nose.»
III
The Pobble swam fast and well
And when boats or ships came near him
He tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bell
So that all the world could hear him.
And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,
When they saw him nearing the further side,—
“He has gone to fish, for his Aunt Jobiska’s
Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!”
