He weds the ‘n’ or ‘an’ with the next word, as ‘a narmchair’, ‘a nemptystummuk’, ‘a noppertunity’, ‘sill kankerchief’, and indulges in the superfluous aspirate, as ‘hempty’. Sometimes he translates whole sentences into nonsense-spelling, as ‘I gnoo how bizzy u were’, or ‘witch fax I only came at granuously’, or ‘phits of coffin’ or ‘sombod a nokking at the dolorous door’, or ‘vorx of hart’, and reports that he has ‘become like a sparry in the pilderpips and a pemmican on the housetops’, which reads like an excerpt from Finnegans Wake! He likes an absurdity such as ‘sufficient unto the day is the weevil thereof’, and in ‘Mary Squeen of Cots’ he anticipates the verbal inversion known later as a Spoonerism. The fun reaches a climax when inflation is added to distortion and his imagination bodies forth a portmanteau-word of no less than thirty-one letters like splendidophorophero-stiphongious, to express his satisfaction with a dinner-party.
It is none of these verbal adventures, however, that reveal Edward Lear at his best as a word-maker. In the examples I have given he is doing little more than amusing himself and his friends by following a fashion of the moment for that sort of thing, although his success indicates both a natural gift for word-building and a need for that kind of expression. His inventiveness is extraordinary and what nearly always begins as fun often ends in an extension of the boundaries of expression. His imagination is always at its best when it has some concrete form or idea for its objective. This is proved by the nomenclature of his nonsense creatures. In this realm he has only one peer—Lewis Carroll. But where the creator of Alice has some half dozen masterpieces to his credit such as the Jabberwock, Bandersnatch, Snark and Boojum, Lear has a whole zooful of distinguished creatures many of which, like the Pobble and the Quangle Wangle, have become common objects of the popular imagination.
15
This busy and distracted man wrote and illustrated, or illustrated for others, a score of volumes, and left in manuscript many more, including diaries, letters and, as he called them, ‘nonsenses’. In addition, his landscapes in oil and water-colours, his realistic representations of parrots and other creatures, and his masterly nonsense drawings in black-and-white, which often anticipate Phil May’s style and economy of line, would fill a fair-sized gallery; and he had some considerable fame among his large circle of friends as a composer of songs, particularly with Tennyson’s words, which he would render with great expression in a thin tenor voice, often reducing his select audiences to tears.
16
This collection of the Nonsense of Edward Lear forms a complete reproduction of the four volumes of nonsense published during the author’s lifetime, together with a few hitherto unpublished pieces included in the selection called Nonsense Songs and Stories, edited by Sir Edward Strachey, in 1895. In this collection there appeared for the first time the characteristic self-portrait in verse reproduced in the present volume.
I was at first tempted to re-arrange the various items in some sort of classification, but remembering that this collection is for entertainment I decided to follow the Lear tradition by arranging the sections in chronological order. The reader may thus roam about and pick and choose at will—which, after all, is the pleasantest way to know Mr. Lear. Another advantage of this method is that all the illustrations are placed where Lear intended them, and as integral to his art of nonsense. I have included specimens of his music and of his handwriting, and also a pictorial record of Old Foss, the cat, and on the title page an example of his epistolary caricatures of himself from an autograph in my possession.
The early nonsense books are not readily accessible as most of them were very properly used up, or eaten up, by the children for whom they were written. The original editions of The Book of Nonsense (1846), as well as Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany and Alphabets (1871), MoreNonsense (1872) and Laughable Lyrics (1877), are all scarce. It is easier to find a First FolioShakespeare than a first edition of The Book of Nonsense: even the British Museum Library has to content itself with a copy of the third edition (1861). The popularity of that book has been continuous and progressive for a hundred years. During the author’s lifetime there were manyeditions, and scarcely a year has since passed without a reprint.
I am obliged to Mr. George Macy of New York for the courtesy of permission to use as the basis of this Introduction the study of Edward Lear written originally for his bibliographical review, The Dolphin, and I am indebted to the following sources for biographical details: The Letters of Edward Lear (1907) and Late Letters of Edward Lear (1911), both edited by Lady Strachey; Mr. Angus Davidson’s Edward Lear: Landscape Painter and Nonsense Poet (1938); and Edward Lear on My Shelves, the monumental folio by which Mr. William B. Osgood Field, the distinguished American bibliophile, has celebrated Edward Lear and his own unique collection of Lear manuscripts and first editions.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
SELF-PORTRAIT OF THE LAUREATE OF NONSENSE
INTRODUCTION - EDWARD LEAR: LAUREATE OF NONSENSE
I - A BOOK OF NONSENSE (1846)
II - NONSENSE SONGS, STORIES BOTANY AND ALPHABETS (1871)
III - MORE NONSENSE PICTURES, RHYMES, BOTANY &c. (1872)
IV - LAUGHABLE LYRICS A FOURTH BOOK OF NONSENSE POEMS, SONGS, BOTANY, MUSIC, &c. (1877)
V - NONSENSE SONGS AND STORIES (1895)
ECLOGUE - COMPOSED AT CANNES, DECEMBER 9TH, 1867
THE HERALDIC BLAZON OF FOSS THE CAT
THE DUCK AND THE KANGAROO
I
A BOOK OF NONSENSE (1846)
There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!—
Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!’
There was a Young Lady of Ryde,
Whose shoe-strings were seldom untied;
She purchased some clogs, and some small spotty dogs,
And frequently walked about Ryde.
There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, ‘If you choose to suppose,
That my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong!’
That remarkable Man with a nose
There was an Old Man on a hill,
Who seldom, if ever, stood still;
He ran up and down, in his Grandmother’s gown,
Which adorned that Old Man on a hill.
There was a Young Lady whose bonnet,
Came untied when the birds sate upon it;
But she said, ‘I don’t care! all the birds in the air
Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!’
There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;
But she seized on the Cat, and said, ‘Granny, burn that!
You incongruous Old Woman of Smyrna!’
There was an Old Person of Chili,
Whose conduct was painful and silly,
He sate on the stairs, eating apples and pears,
That imprudent Old Person of Chili.
There was an Old Man with a gong,
Who bumped at it all the day long;
But they called out, ‘0 law! you’re a horrid old bore!’
So they smashed that Old Man with a gong.
There was an Old Lady of Chertsey,
Who made a remarkable curtsey;
She twirled round and round, till she sunk underground,
Which distressed all the people of Chertsey.
There was an Old Man in a tree,
Who was horribly bored by a Bee;
When they said, ‘Does it buzz?’ he replied, ‘Yes, it does!’
‘It’s a regular brute of a Bee!’
There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played day and night, till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.
There was a Young Lady whose c
hin,
Resembled the point of a pin;
So she had it made sharp, and purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.
There was an Old Man of Kilkenny,
Who never had more than a penny;
He spent all that money, in onions and honey,
That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny.
There was an Old Person of Ischia,
Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier;
He danced hornpipes and jigs, and ate thousands of figs,
That lively old Person of Ischia.
There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, ‘I’m afloat! I’m afloat!’
When they said, ‘No! you ain’t!’ he was ready to faint,
That unhappy Old Man in a boat.
There was a Young Lady of Portugal,
Whose ideas were excessively nautical:
She climbed up a tree, to examine the sea,
But declared she would never leave Portugal.
There was an Old Man of Moldavia,
Who had the most curious behaviour;
For while he was able, he slept on a table.
That funny Old Man of Moldavia.
There was an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-coloured ass;
But the length of its ears, so promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.
There was an Old Person of Leeds,
Whose head was infested with beads;
She sat on a stool, and ate gooseberry fool,
Which agreed with that person of Leeds.
There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair, and behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.
There was an Old Person of Hurst,
Who drank when he was not athirst;
When they said, ‘You’ll grow fatter,’ he answered, ‘What matter?’
That globular Person of Hurst.
There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack, spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous person of Crete.
There was an Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles:
He sung high dum diddle, and played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.
There was an Old Person of Buda,
Whose conduct grew ruder and ruder;
Till at last, with a hammer, they silenced his clamour,
By smashing that Person of Buda.
There was an Old Man of Columbia,
Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer;
But they brought it quite hot, in a small copper pot,
Which disgusted that man of Columbia.
There was a Young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
But its colour and size, so bedazzled her eyes,
That she very soon went back to Dorking.
There was an Old Man who supposed,
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large rats, ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile old gentleman dozed.
There was an Old Man of the West,
Who wore a pale plum-coloured vest;
When they said, ‘Does it fit?’ he replied, ‘Not a bit!’
That uneasy Old Man of the West.
There was an Old Man of the Wrekin
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking
But they said ‘Tell us whether, your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?’
There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide, people all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.
There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat in a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat, she exclaimed ‘What of that?’
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.
There was an Old Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree, he took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.
There was an old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon Rabbits;
When he’d eaten eighteen, he turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.
There was an old person of Dover,
Who rushed through a field of blue Clover;
But some very large bees, stung his nose and his knees,
So he very soon went back to Dover.
There was an Old Man of Marseilles,
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils;
They caught several Fish, which they put in a dish,
And sent to their Pa’ at Marseilles.
There was an Old Person of Cadiz,
Who was always polite to all ladies;
But in handing his daughter, he fell into the water,
Which drowned that Old Person of Cadiz.
There was an Old Person of Basing,
Whose presence of mind was amazing;
He purchased a steed, which he rode at full speed,
And escaped from the people of Basing.
There was an old Man of Quebec,
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, ‘With a needle, I’ll slay you, O beadle!’
That angry Old Man of Quebec.
There was an Old Person of Philœ,
Whose conduct was scroobious and wily;
He rushed up a Palm, when the weather was calm,
And observed all the ruins of Philœ.
There was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs, to her uncle’s white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.
There was a Young Lady whose nose,
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady, whose conduct was steady,
To carry that wonderful nose.
There was a Young Lady of Turkey,
Who wept when the weather was murky;
When the day turned out fine, she ceased to repine,
That capricious Young Lady of Turkey.
There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar
He fed twenty sons, upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia,
There was an Old Man with a poker,
Who painted his face with red oker
When they said, ‘You’re a Guy!’ he made no reply,
But knocked them all down with his poker.
There was an Old Person of Prague,
Who was suddenly seized with the plague;
But they gave him some butter, which caused him to mutter,
And cured that Old Person of Prague.
There was an Old Man of the North,
Who fell into a basin of broth;
But a laudable cook, fished him out with a hook,
Which saved that Old Man of the North.
There was a Young Lady of Poole,
Whose soup was excessively cool;
So she put it to boil by the aid of some oil,
That ingenious Young Lady of Poole.
There was an Old Person of Mold,
Who shrank from sensations of cold;
So he purchased some muffs, some furs and some fluffs,
And wrapped himself from the cold.
There was an Old Man of Nepaul,
From his horse had a terrible fall;
But, though split quite in two, by some very strong glue,
They mended that Man of Nepaul.
There was an old Man of th’ Abruzzi,
So blin
d that he couldn’t his foot see;
When they said, ‘That’s your toe,’ he replied, ‘Is it so?’
That doubtful old Man of th’ Abruzzi.
There was an Old Person of Rhodes,
Who strongly objected to toads;
He paid several cousins, to catch them by dozens,
That futile Old Person of Rhodes.
There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once by mistake, in a stove she did bake,
That unfortunate Man of Peru.
There was an Old Man of Melrose,
Who walked on the tips of his toes;
But they said, ‘It ain’t pleasant, to see you at present,
You stupid Old Man of Melrose.’
There was a Young Lady of Lucca,
The Complete Nonsense of Edward Lear Page 3