But when she came back
The poor dog was laughing.
She took a clean dish
To get him some tripe:
But when she came back
He was smoking a pipe.
She went to the alehouse
To get him some beer;
But when she came back
The dog sat in a chair.
She went to the tavern
For white wine and red;
But when she came back
The dog stood on his head.
She went to the fruiterer’s
To buy him some fruit;
But when she came back
He was playing the flute.
She went to the tailor’s
To buy him a coat;
But when she came back
He was riding a goat.
She went to the hatter’s
To buy him a hat;
But when she came back
He was feeding the cat.
She went to the barber’s
To buy him a wig;
But when she came back
He was dancing a jig.
She went to the cobbler’s
To buy him some shoes:
But when she came back
He was reading the news.
She went to the seamstress
To buy him some linen;
But when she came back
The dog was a-spinning.
She went to the hosier’s
To buy him some hose;
But when she came back
He was dressed in his clothes.
The dame made a curtsey,
The dog made a bow;
The dame said, Your servant,
The dog said, Bow-wow.
ANONYMOUS
NINE MICE
Nine mice on tiny tricycles
went riding on the ice,
they rode in spite of warning signs,
they rode despite advice.
The signs were right, the ice was thin,
in half a trice, the mice fell in,
and from their chins down to their toes,
those mice entirely froze.
Nine mindless mice, who paid the price,
are thawing slowly by the ice,
still sitting on their tricycles
… nine white and shiny micicles!
JACK PRELUTSKY
VLADIMIR’S SONG from
‘WAITING FOR GODOT’
A dog came into the kitchen
And stole a crust of bread.
Then cook up with a ladle
And beat him till he was dead.
Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb
And wrote upon the tombstone
For the eyes of dogs to come:
A dog came in the kitchen
And stole a crust of bread.
Then cook up with a ladle
And beat him till he was dead.
Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb
And wrote upon the tombstone
For the eyes of dogs to come:
SAMUEL BECKETT
OLD MOTHER HUBBARD AND HER DOG REVISITED
Said Old Mother Hubbard, one dark winter’s night,
While giving a bath to her goat,
‘That dog looks as though he’s been having a fight:
I wish he’d take pride in his coat.’
The very next morning she had a great shock
Which made her feel weak at the knees,
For there was the dog, wearing beret and smock,
Painting pictures of birds in the trees.
He went indoors, leaving his paintings to dry;
She followed – and what do you think?
He was dressed as a sailor, a patch on one eye,
With a small fleet of boats in the sink.
Said Old Mother Hubbard, ‘You’re getting me down;
Oh, won’t you behave yourself, please?’
But five minutes later, got up like a clown,
He was juggling with pieces of cheese.
So Old Mother Hubbard lay down to relax:
She felt a slight ache in the head.
But dressed as a burglar, with crowbar and axe,
The dog stole the legs off the bed.
Then Old Mother Hubbard heard no noise at all.
Now, did that mean mischief or not?
She found him downstairs, dressed in bonnet and shawl,
And gurgling away in his cot.
‘Oh, do something useful!’ the poor woman cried.
The dog scratched his head, thinking hard.
Then, in helmet and armour, he clattered outside,
Giving chase to the mice in the yard.
Thought Old Mother Hubbard, while bolting the door,
‘He’s so disobedient and rude!
But I won’t pass remarks on his coat any more:
He’s better behaved in the nude.’
JOHN YEOMAN
THE STORY OF THE MAN THAT WENT OUT SHOOTING
This is the man that shoots the hares;
This is the coat he always wears:
With game-bag, powder-horn and gun
He’s going out to have some fun.
The hare sits snug in leaves and grass,
And laughs to see the green man pass.
He finds it hard, without a pair
Of spectacles, to shoot the hare.
Now, as the sun grew very hot,
And he a heavy gun had got,
He lay down underneath a tree
And went to sleep, as you may see.
And, while he slept like any top,
The little hare came, hop, hop, hop,
Took gun and spectacles, and then
On her hind legs went off again.
The green man wakes and sees her place
The spectacles upon her face;
And now she’s trying all she can
To shoot the sleepy, green-coat man.
He cries and screams and runs away;
The hare runs after him all day,
And hears him call out everywhere:
‘Help! Fire! Help! The Hare! The Hare!’
At last he stumbled at the well
Head over ears, and in he fell.
The hare stopp’d short, took aim, and hark!
Bang went the gun, – she miss’d her mark!
The poor man’s wife was drinking up
Her coffee in her coffee-cup;
The gun shot cup and saucer through;
‘O dear!’ cried she, ‘what shall I do?’
There liv’d close by the cottage there
The hare’s own child, the little hare;
And while she stood upon her toes,
The coffee fell and burn’d her nose.
‘O dear!’ she cried, with spoon in hand,
‘Such fun I do not understand.’
DR HEINRICH HOFFMAN
FUR AND FEATHERS
The Emus formed a football team
Up Walgett way;
Their dark-brown sweaters were a dream
But kangaroos would sit and scream
To watch them play.
‘Now, butterfingers,’ they would call,
And such-like names;
The emus couldn’t hold the ball
– They had no hands – but hands aren’t all
In football games.
A match against the kangaroos
They played one day.
The kangaroos were forced to choose
Some wallabies and wallaroos
That played in grey.
The rules that in the West prevail
Would shock the town;
For when a kangaroo set sail
An emu jumped upon his tail
And fetched him down.
A whistler duck as referee
Was not admired.
He whistled so incessantly<
br />
The teams rebelled, and up a tree
He soon retired.
The old marsupial captain said
‘It’s do or die!’
So down the ground like fire he fled
And leaped above an emu’s head
And scored a try.
Then shouting ‘Keep it on the toes!’
The emus came.
Fierce as the flooded Bogan flows
They laid their foemen out in rows
And saved the game.
On native pear and Darling pea
They dined that night:
But one man was an absentee:
The whistler duck – their referee –
Had taken flight.
A. B. ‘BANJO’ PATERSON
THE MONKEY’S GLUE
When the monkey in his madness
Took the glue to mend his voice,
’Twas the crawfish showed his sadness
That the bluebird could rejoice.
Then the perspicacious parrot
Sought to save the suicide
By administering carrot,
But the monkey merely died.
So the crawfish and the parrot
Sauntered slowly toward the sea,
While the bluebird stole the carrot
And returned the glue to me.
GOLDWIN GOLDSMITH
THE MONKEY’S WEDDING
The monkey married the Baboon’s sister,
Smacked his lips and then he kissed her,
He kissed so hard he raised a blister.
She set up a yell.
The bridesmaid stuck on some court plaster,
It stuck so fast it couldn’t stick faster,
Surely ’twas a sad disaster,
But it soon got well.
What do you think the bride was dressed in?
White gauze veil and a green glass breast-pin,
Red kid shoes – she was quite interesting,
She was quite a belle.
The bridegroom swell’d with a blue shirt collar,
Black silk stock that cost a dollar,
Large false whiskers the fashion to follow;
He cut a monstrous swell.
What do you think they had for supper?
Black-eyed peas and bread and butter,
Ducks in the duck-house all in a flutter,
Pickled oysters too.
Chestnuts raw and boil’d and roasted,
Apples sliced and onions toasted,
Music in the corner posted,
Waiting for the cue.
What do you think was the tune they danced to?
‘The drunken Sailor’ – sometimes ‘Jim Crow,’
Tails in the way – and some got pinched, too,
’Cause they were too long.
What do you think they had for a fiddle?
An old Banjo with a hole in the middle,
A Tambourine made out of a riddle,
And that’s the end of my song.
ANONYMOUS
A GAMUT OF ACHIEVEMENTS
SIMPLE SIMON
Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got
Was in his mother’s pail.
Simple Simon went a-skating
On a pond in June.
‘Dear me,’ he cried, ‘this water’s wet,
I fear I’ve come too soon!’
Simple Simon made a snowball,
And brought it home to roast;
He laid it down before the fire,
And soon the ball was lost.
Simple Simon bought a gun,
‘To shoot a bird,’ he said.
He held the gun the wrong way round,
And shot himself instead.
ANONYMOUS
SCIENCE FOR THE YOUNG
Thoughtful little Willie Frazer
Carved his name with father’s razor;
Father, unaware of trouble,
Used the blade to shave his stubble.
Father cut himself severely,
Which pleased little Willie dearly –
‘I have fixed my father’s razor
So it cuts!’ said Willie Frazer.
Mamie often wondered why
Acids trouble alkali –
Mamie, in a manner placid,
Fed the cat boracic acid,
Whereupon the cat grew frantic,
Executing many an antic,
‘Ah!’ cried Mamie, overjoyed,
‘Pussy is an alkaloid!’
Arthur with a lighted taper
Touched the fire to grandpa’s paper.
Grandpa leaped a foot or higher,
Dropped the sheet and shouted ‘Fire!’
Arthur, wrapped in contemplation,
Viewed the scene of conflagration.
‘This,’ he said, ‘confirms my notion –
Heat creates both light and motion.’
Wee, experimental Nina
Dropped her mother’s Dresden china
From a seventh-story casement,
Smashing, crashing to the basement.
Nina, somewhat apprehensive,
Said: ‘This china is expensive,
Yet it proves by demonstration
Newton’s law of gravitation.’
WALLACE IRWIN
HOORAY FOR CAPTAIN SPAULDING
Chorus:
Hooray for Captain Spaulding,
The African explorer!
Groucho:
Did someone call me schnorrer?
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
Chorus:
Hooray for Captain Spaulding,
The African explorer!
Groucho:
Did someone call me schnorrer?
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
Chorus:
He went into the jungle
Where all the monkeys throw nuts,
Groucho:
If I stay here I’ll go nuts,
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
Chorus:
One day he caught a lion,
A tiger: and a monkey,
Groucho:
I thought it was a donkey,
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
Groucho:
I put all my reliance
In courage and defiance,
And risked my life for science,
Hey, Hey!
I had a guide named Streeter,
He lent me his repeater,
I bought down a mosquiter,
Hey, Hey!
Chorus:
One day in Madagascar
He bagged a dozen weasels
Groucho:
And all of them had measles,
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
Chorus:
Hooray for Captain Spaulding,
Whose name and fame are spreading
Groucho:
But who knows where it’s heading?
Chorus:
Hooray, hooray,
Hooray! Hooray, hooray, hooray!
BERT KALMAR AND HARRY RUBY
THE ADVENTURES OF ISABEL
Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear’s big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I’ll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry,
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.
Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked witch.
The witch’s face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch’s gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho ho, Isabel! the old
witch crowed,
I’ll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry,
She showed no rage, she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.
Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self-reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forehead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I’ll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
She nibbled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant’s head off.
The Puffin Book of Nonsense Verse Page 9