Showing posts with label W. W. Denslow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label W. W. Denslow. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

BILLY BOUNCE IN SEARCH OF THE NORTH POLE

By W. W. Denslow
Illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published November 17, 1901.



 

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, June 2, 1918
 
Children's Day in Supposyville

Among the other charming days,
Delightful and delectable,
To find a Children’s Day is quite
Supposish and expectable.

And things are just reversed, my dears,
And parents take the places
Of little boys and girls and have
To wash their hands and faces.

And in Supposyville that day
No one says “No” or “Sha’n’t”
To any little boy or girl;
Nor “Stop!” nor “don’t!” nor “Can’t!”

The grown folks run the errands and
The grown folks do the chores,
And fetch the cows and make the bows
And answer bells and doors.

The children start the day by lying
Late in bed, and then,
Without a thought of soap or water,
Dress at nine or ten.

And minus shoes and stockings hie
Them forth to hill and wood,
With no one to correct them, nor
To tell them to be good.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be quite safe
In any place but this,
But in Supposyville things never,
Never go amiss!

And so on Children’s Day the boys
And girls roam up and down—
Even the good King abdicates
And lets them have his crown

And sit upon his big, high throne;
And in the castle court
Are swings and rings and other things
Of fascinating sort.

Merry-go-rounds and ponies
To be ridden, and toy boats
That can be guided with long poles
Around the castle moats.

The children eat just any time
And stay up late as ten,
Or half-past, or eleven, and
No one says bed; so then

They fall asleep where’er they be,
And then the grown-ups come
And gather in the weary crop
Of little chicks. Ho—hum!

And though they won’t admit it, and
It may seem strange to you,
They think they’re going to like this day
Much better than they do!

Copyright © 2023 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Sunday, September 3, 2023

BILLY BOUNCE, THE HOT-FOOT MESSENGER BOY OF OUR TOWN - PART 1

By W. W. Denslow
Illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published November 10, 1901.


 

 

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, May 19, 1918
 
Sir Solomon Tremendous Wise Answers All the Whys

Sir Solomon Tremendous Wise
Gets such a lot of mail,
He sends his footman for it with
Two knapsacks and a pail.

For all Supposies think he knows
Just every why and wherefore,
Each rhyme and reason and because
And every single therefore.

And patiently Sir Solomon,
With specs upon his nose,
Goes through the lot to see what new
Inquiries ’twill disclose.

His quill pen splutters valiantly
Their questions to unravel,
Upon my word, sweethearts, my loves,
That old quill pen can travel.

They say he uses pails of ink
(His writing is so large)
And miles of paper, which the King
Supplies him free of charge.

Each morning in his study there
He writes and writes and writes,
And then to finish up the rest
Sometimes he works at nights.

It’s pretty good of him, I think;
And when the children there
Ask questions vexing and perplexing,
Parents don’t despair!

They just refer the matter to
Old Solomon, and never
Has he been stumped or failed to give
A jolly answer ever.

“Now, why do bills and hills run up?
And why do clocks run down?
Why is the sky so often blue
Instead of merely brown?

“Why am I bald? And how can shoes
Be kept from wearing out?
And could you send a remedy
For me? I’m much too stout!

“How is it that the trees put forth
Their blossoms ’fore the fruit?”
And Solomon he finds them all
A reason just to suit.

“You’re bald, dear sir, because your head
Is such a splendid one—
’Twould never do to hide from view!”
“For stoutness roll and run!”

Do thus and so and so and thus,
Sir Solomon advises.
It is a mystery to me
Why Solomon so wise is!
 
Copyright © 2023 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

 

Tuesday, November 1, 2022

STRENUOUS BOBBY, WILLIE WHISKERS AND THE BLUE BULL PUP

by W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Published May 18, 1902, in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.


Click image to enlarge.


Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, March 10, 1918.

Supposyville Has a Wishing Time of It


The Wishing Day set by the King
All duly doth arrive;
With laugh and jest, dressed in their best,
Supposies block the drive.
The King’s Highway, the castle green,
And sit upon the fences;
A shrill blast from the pages and
The Wishing Test commences.

The Fairies gave the King a wish—
He tried and tried and tried,
But found himself, the dear old thing,
Completely satisfied!
The Queen likewise declared herself
Without a wish, so now
They’ve called the good Supposies up
To ask them where and how

To use the wish. Well, well, upon
My heart! they sat there blinking,
All solemnlike and serious,
A thinking, thinking, thinking!
The King began to look distressed,
When not a sound he hears;
“They’re out of practice, for they haven’t
Wished,” sighed he, “for years!”

The whole truth of the matter, dears
And ducks, was this alone;
In the whole Supposy Kingdom
There was not one wee wishbone—
No wishbone, dears, among them.
“Here’s a pretty howdedo,”
Quoth the Queen unto her consort,
“Trying to wish has made us blue!”

“We must use the wish or else
The fairies will be hurt,” said he.
“Ahem! I’ll have to try again.
Ahem! just let me see.”
It was no use; in that delightful
Kingdom—there was naught
To want or wish for; there they sat
And thought and thought and thought.

Just glancing o’er the garden wall
Their giant neighbor spied ’em
Looking so solemn, he called across
To know what ’twas that tried ’em.
At that the King jumped up and called,
“Big neighbor, if you had
A wish, what would you wish with it?”
“A wish?” quoth he. “Egad!

“If wishing were of use at all
I’d wish myself a wife,
For I’m a social giant and
I lead a lonely life!”
“Heighho!” the King bounced to his feet
And roared with mirth and glee,
“I wish our neighbor here a wife
As fine and big as he!”

A rumble shook the earth; the good
Supposies all fell flat,
And when they rose—well, what you ’spose?
Upon the wall there sat
A huge and lovely giant girl,
Tremendously delightful.
Indeed she was amazingly
Good looking and a sightfull.

The marriage was arranged and then
Was tied upon the spot,
And all Supposyville was there.
Exciting, was it not?

Copyright © 2022 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Saturday, January 1, 2022

STRENUOUS BOBBY AND HOW HE BROKE WILLIE WHISKERS TO HARNESS

By W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published in the St. Louis (Missouri) Daily Globe-Democrat, May 4, 1902.

 

Click image to enlarge.

 

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 16, 1917.
 
 
Just ’Fore Christmas in Supposyville

With what a stirring, bustling, whirring
Thrill of preparation
Supposyville makes ready for
Its Christmas celebration.
The couriers and messengers
Pound off—and up and down,
And holly wreaths nod jovially
From every house in town,
While the odors from the chimneys
Waft one straight to fairyland—
Oh, Christmas is a season that
Supposies understand!

And always kind and merry,
Now they simply radiate
A happiness that sets one’s heart
Into its Christmas gait;
Oh, yes, they know about good will
And peace in old Supposyville!

The bells are tolling hourly
The message of the times;
So sweet, so sweet the angels
Seem to sing, and not the chimes;
And with what hearty greetings
The good folk go to and fro,
Piled high with ribboned boxes
And with greens and mistletoe.

The castle clock is festive
In a giant wreath of holly,
And seems each minute to grow more
Excited and more jolly;
The chimneys newly cleaned and swept
Smoke sociably together,
And hope for old Kriss Kringle’s sake
For snowy Christmas weather.
Each lad and lassie’s busy
With a song or piece to learn;
The Yule logs in the fireplace
Brag ’bout the way they’ll burn.
I cannot think without a thrill
Of Christmas in Supposyville!

Copyright © 2022 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

PIETRO AND JOCKO, THE MONK

By W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published in the St. Louis (Missouri) Daily Globe-Democrat, April 20, 1902.

 

Click image to enlarge.

 

 

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, November 25, 1917.
 

The Supposy Thanksgiving

I’ve heard a deal of funny things,
But never, never, never,
One quite so queer as this, my dear—
This is the queerest ever.
It has to do with that quaint state
Of mind, and ’tis delectable;
Pshaw! In Supposyville the unexpected
Is expectable.
And yet I think they were a bit
Surprised themselves. ’Twas noon,
And for a week before the cooks
Had wrought with knife and spoon,
Preparing all the eatables—
The cakes, and tarts, and pies.
Now, in the overs sizzle all
The turkeys, stuffed life size;
Yes, in that kingdom, dears and ducks,
A baking, boiling, stewing,
A hundred dinners for
Thanksgiving are a brewing.

When all at once the castle bell
Its silver summons peals,
And soon just every one in sight
Has taken to his heels.
All breathlessly there in the court
The populace give ear.
The King upon the balcony
Now speaks: “Oh, people, hear
This proclamation. Heretofore
We’ve kept Thanksgiving Day,
I now do solemnly command
That ye give it away!
For we can keep thanksgiving
Every day—in every year.
Go fetch the dinners—and return
In just an hour—here!”
Oh, what a scrambling—and what haste—
All steaming hot and savory
The hundred hundred dinners
Into hampers go. Some bravery
It took, I will admit,
But merrily they all obey
And in an hour are prepared
To give the day—away.
Now all the horses in the town
And all the carts are taken—
And merrily they hie them off
To villages forsaken.
And how the people gasp and stare
As hamper after hamper
Come tumbling down—through many a town
The good Supposies scamper.
And what a lark and joy it was
With each to do his part
In sacrificing all—they made
A feast day for the heart.
It seems to me that they are right—
To keep Thanksgiving Day—
Is selfish, and I sometimes wish
We’d all give it away.

Copyright © 2021 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Friday, August 9, 2019

THE WILD PIEMAN OF BORNEO COMES TO THE FRONT WITH A GIANT-CRACKER ACT

Verse and illustration by W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc. 

Originally published in The Minneapolis Star Tribune, June 29, 1902.


Click image to view larger.


Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, May 6, 1917.
 
Riddle Day in Supposyville

The first of May is riddle day;
And in Supposyville,
The townfolk, dressed in colors gay,
Assemble on the hill;
The King and Queen and Fiddlesticks
Gave riddles out at three,
And all the folks are in a line,
Same as a spelling bee;
And when you miss you step right out
And have a cake or bun;
But, oh! my goody, don’t each try
To be the lucky one—
To outguess all the rest and win
The cup and bag of gold
And the title “Royal Riddle Guesser,”
For a year to hold!
“What is it whose whole fortune is
A cent; yet all desire it,
And spend both gold and silver to
Secure and to acquire it?”
The tailor missed, the baker missed;
“A rose!” piped up the next,
A little lass; the other two
Retire abashed and vexed.
One riddle follows t’other, and
So entertained are all,
None note the quickly darkening sky
Or see the coming squall;
Down lashed the rain, up rose the gale;
Next minute half the people
Were perching on the housetops,
Fiddlesticks astride the steeple;
The cakes and buns flew through the air,
Too comical for words;
The hats went flapping up the trees
Like lively sort of birds;
But if you think they let this gale
Break up the riddle match,
You don’t know these Supposies;
Perched on tree or fence or thatch,
With ne’er a thought of fixings fine,
They stayed in wind and rain
A-shouting answers to the Queen
With all their might and main;
A little merchant won the match;
Then all splash off together,
Forgetting in their jolly talk
The shocking riddle weather.
It takes a lot to discompose
A people so unique as those!

Copyright © 2019 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

STRENUOUS BOBBY AND THE GOAT

By W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published in Boston Post, May 11, 1902.


Click image to enlarge.


THE FORGETFUL POET
  The Forgetful Poet 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, March 27, 1921.
 

The Forgetful Poet and His Puzzles

There were surely enough mistakes in the old fellow’s verses last week to keep all of us busy. First he said bearlarpo instead of polar bear, left out to; used lions where he should have used monkeys and monkeys where he should have put lions; left out appetite and hay and wish, had tigers spotted instead of striped and leopards striped instead of spotted and left out do and it.

Today he has written a simple little Easter poem he says that a mere child can understand.

The Easter Rabbit has long -----
And fur as white as -----.
He brings good children Easter eggs,
And other things, you know.

I wish he’d bring a few to me,
Although I’m just a poet,
Grown up at that. I’ll bet a hat
No one would ever -----.


[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2018 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

SANTA CLAUS IN THE GLAD LANDS

by W. W. Denslow
Author of Denslow's Scarecrow and Tinman, original illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Father Goose: His Book, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published in the Saint Paul Globe, December 13, 1903.


Click Image to Enlarge.


THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, February 13, 1921.

The Forgetful Poet’s Puzzle

The blanks in last week’s verses should have been filled in with deer, bear, horse, frog, dog, cat and whale.

This time the Forgetful Poet wants to know what letter is found eighteen times on every full golf course?

What is the cheapest patch in the world?

What soldier name for dinner describes a dog?

When the cat is angry it also describes a bowwow.

Can you fill in these blanks?

An amiable ostrich
Once went to a -----
Where she trod on the toes
Of the great and the -----

Till a young lady elephant
Snatched out a trunk full
Of plumes. Away home
The poor ostrich bird slunk full
                   (of sorrow).


[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2018 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

BABY PULLED THE PUSSY'S TAIL

By L. Frank Baum 
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Boy Fortune Hunters in the Yucatan, Daughters of Destiny,
etc.


Illustrated by W. W. Denslow

Originally published in Father Goose: His Book, 1899.







THE FORGETFUL POET 

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, September 19, 1920.

Puzzle Corner

The answers to last week’s puzzles were: Greenland and the Rd Sea. The musical instruments were: Viols, Cornet, organ, harp and horns.

This week he wants to know what turns without moving and what words he has left out of this poem:

SEPTEMBER

September’s nineteen ----- today,
And almost middle-aged.
Already in the Halls of Time
October’s being paged.

They fly so fast, these merry months;
I’ll have to run myself,
Or take a place with solemn face
On Grandpa Time’s top -----?

[Answers next time.]



Copyright © 2016 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Monday, August 1, 2016

NOW, ONCE I OWNED A FUNNY MAN

By L. Frank Baum

Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Boy Fortune Hunters in the Yucatan, Daughters of Destiny, etc.

Illustrated by W. W. Denslow

Originally published in Father Goose: His Book, 1899.



 
THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, August 22, 1920.

Poems and Puzzles 

Last week’s answers and verses were:

There once was coot in a waterproof suit,
And the silly old water fowl thought he looked cute!

An arithmetic book is well furnished because it is full of tables.

The bodies of water concealed in the last two verses were the River Don, Lake Superior and Seine River.

Forgetfully speaking, what would you say to these:

“How can a sea place see?
A wise little fish asked me.
“Don’t know,” said I. “Will you please explain?”
“Yes,” laughed the fish, “Sea planes see plain!”

There are six trees concealed in these verses. Can you find them?

“I’d like a dress,” said Mary Jane,
“A cotton or a crash;
A red would do—or, maybe, blue!”
Dad flicked his cigar ash.

“Perhaps you can have two,” he said,
“To wear down at the beach.
Upon the whole, you shall have three,
You’re such a little peach.
“But how I wish my little girl
Would not grow up,” he said;
“And do you hear the locusts
Telling folks it’s time for bed?” 

They may not be spelled like trees—but they sound like ’em.

[Answers next time.] 

Copyright © 2016 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Friday, February 1, 2013

DUFFY'S APPLE JUICE IMP

By W. W. Denslow
Author of The Scarecrow and Tin-Man of Oz, illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Dot and Tot of Merryland, etc.

Originally published 1909.


Duffy's Apple Juice Imp

A little boy and little girl
  Went out one bright spring day
To wander through the woods and fields
  And find a place to play;
When lo! they heard a little voice
  It almost was a scream;
'Twas from a funny fairy man
  A splashing in a stream.

They went to his relief at once,
  And pulled him to the land;
He thanked them very many times,
  And took them by the hand;
"I am the Apple Imp," said he,
  "The trees I tend with care,
That golden autumn may be crowned
  With harvests everywhere.


Children and Imp

"In gratitude I give to you
  This little apple seed,
'Twill give you health and happiness
  And anything you need.
Go plant it in a pleasant spot,
  All by the bright moonlight."
With that hue jumped into the air
  And was soon out of sight.

The children did as they were bid,
  Next day a sprout appeared;
They tended it with loving care
  And soon a tree they reared.
The blossoms first came in the spring,
  Green fruit in summer time;
Then luscious apples ripe and red
  In golden autumn's prime.


The seed sprouts

It puzzled both the children how
  To get those apples down;
And also where to get a cart
  To take them into town;
Then from the moon the imp appeared
  Said he, "I'll help you out."
Then from the moon the fairies appeared
  They came with merry shout.

"Now fairies fair, make haste with care,"
  Go pluck those apples sound;
Run out upon each bending branch
  And bring them to the ground.:
So spoke the imp, and in a wink,
  The fairies stripped the tree;
And piled the pippins on the grass,
  A goodly sight to see.

The apples picked

"Bring forth the magic auto car,
  And as the wind is fair,
Instead of running on the ground,
  We'll travel through the air."
This care was broad and deep and long,
  With room enough for all,
The apples that grew on the tree,
  The imp and children small.

The fairies loaded up the car
  With rosy apples bright;
And soon the imp and children, too,
  Were flying through the night.
Then as the golden-tinted sky
  Showed that the morn was dawning,
They landed close by Duffy's door
  At seven in the morning.

"This is Bets and this is Bob,
  Two great good friends of mine,”
The imp to Mister Duffy said,
   "With something in your line;
For they have brought you apples rare,
  Expressly for your use.
They'd like to have you make them
  Your famous apple juice."

Mister Duffy was delighted
  To get the goodly fruit,
For he was most particular
  And very hard to suit.
When he is making apple juice
  He always must be sure
To have the apples sound and good,
  To make the product pure.


Children with bottles

Full soon the car was homeward bound,
  This time upon the road;
But now instead of apples ripe
  It bore a liquid load--
All snugly packed in bottles neat,
  With labels on the side;
So Bets and Bob were quite happy
  And filled with honest pride.


Enjoying apple juice
 

On evenings in the winter time,
  If you don't come too late,
You'll find a happy family
  All gathered 'round the grate.
'Twas Duffy's apple juice, Betsy Jane
  And Bob, the sturdy boy,
That brought their family health and strength,
  And filled their hearts with joy.



THE FORGETFUL POET The Forgetful Poet 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 7, 1919.


The Forgetful Poet

The queer creature received so many letters asking him what he did want for Christmas that he decided to answer them all in this week's verses.

What I Want for Christmas

I've thought and thought and quite reduced
  My wants to one small thing--
I'd be content if some one ------
  A magic wishing ------.

I know it is a modest gift.
  But I'm a modest poet.
I hardly need have added this
  For you already ------ ------.

Dear me, he'll have to tell the fairies about this. Modest? Oh, my! The words he forgot last week were size, use, hall, trees and cigars.


[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2013 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Friday, July 1, 2011

WHEN I GROW UP - THE PIRATE

Written and Illustrated by W. W. Denslow
Author of The Scarecrow and the Tin-Man of Oz, illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Denslow/s Mother Goose, etc.

Originally published in The Century Magazine, 1909.

 
I'd sail the Spanish Main, The Master of the Seas
 
'Twas little Johnnie's heart's desire
To be a pirate bold,
And scuttle ships on Southern trips
As done in days of old.


'Twas little Johnnie's heart's desire to be a pirate bold
 
Said John: "I'd sail the Spanish Main,
The Master of the Seas,
And hide my loot in coral caves
Among the Caribbees.

"We'd board the ship with pike and gun;
We'd show the crew no quarter, -
Except in case there was on board
The Captain's handsome daughter.


Then if she’d ask their worthless lives
 
"Then if she'd ask their worthless lives,
We'd grant it, if they would
Salute at once the pirate flag
And promise to be good.

"Jewels and plate and 'pieces of eight'
We'd have in goodly stores
That we had buried at dark midnight
On far-off island shores."

Jewels and plate and 'pieces of eight' we'd have in goodly stores



THE FORGETFUL POET The Forgetful Poet 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 6, 1919.


The Forgetful Poet

Has a sunburned nose, but otherwise he is just the same. And as forgetful as ever! But he hasn't forgotten the answers to last week's riddles. Here they are: sloop, cutter, catboat, yacht, ferry and dhow, the Arab boat. He says:

"I know some clocks
That never tick
The minutes
Nor the hours.
You needn't think
From this I mean
A certain sort
Of flowers!"
('Cause I don't.)

And when you've answered that one try these:

What bird, plus a letter of the alphabet, will give a game played by us all in the summertime?

And what body of water will give a gentleman's game?

And what structure on which we cross rivers will give a favorite lady's game?

Then see if you can fill in these blanks with the proper boats.

Among the harbor's busy racket
You'll surely spy the good old -----,
While loaded to the very prow
Comes next the ancient river -----;
With many a whistle and churn and clug
Arrives the busy little -----.

[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2011 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Monday, December 1, 2008

HUMPTY DUMPTY JUNIOR

Adapted and Illustrated by W. W. Denslow
Author of The Scarecrow and the Tin-Man of Oz, and illustrator of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Dot and Tot of Merryland, Father Goose: His Book, etc.

Originally published in the New York Herald, December 14, 1902.


Humpty Junior bows to a little girl
You all remember how Humpty Dumpty
Fell from a wall and was so much bumped he
Couldn't be possibly patched again
By all the King's horses and his men.
But maybe you never heard tell he left
A dear little son of his care bereft,
A round little chap with a smile so wide,
And a great gold heart in his little inside.

Of getting along his chance was slim,
Till an old hen mother adopted him.
She made him snug in a straw filled nest,
And covered him up with her feathered breast.
But he wanted to go, this adventurous lad,
And see the world, as his father had.


Humpty Junior and the Hen
"All right," said the Hen, "If you wish to roam,
Take my advice ere you leave this home.
You'll probably climb on great high walls,
As your father did, and you may have falls;
And likely as not you'll break your leg,
Or get smashed up like a scrambled egg.

"I know a way to avoid all that.
Go to yon farm house, quick as "scat,"
And ask of the housewife if she's got
A kettle of water boiling hot.
And if she has, why, you jump right in,
Although the water will scald your skin.
Stay ten minutes and then jump out,
And you will find when you run about
You can tumble and roll to your fullest bent,
And never receive a crack or dent."

Humpty Junior jumped into a copper pot

So Humpty Junior, as good as gold,
Took the advice as he was told,
And jumped right into a copper pot
Of water steaming and boiling hot.
And there he stayed, though it hurt at first
And he felt that his little skin would burst.
But courage to him the thought would lend
That he was dodging his pa's sad end.

After awhile he tumbled out
And started at once to run about.
He frolicked and leaped in ecstasy,
He rolled and he stumbled, just to see
If his head he'd break, or his skin be spoiled,
And he cried, "Oh, joy, I am quite hard-boiled!"

Humpty Junior and the Housewife

His heart, he found, wouldn't rattle 'round
When he fell from a table to the ground,
And he giggled to find he would not smash
When he jumped from the mantel with a crash.
Oh, tickled indeed was Humpty D.,
The happiest egg you'd ever see!

The last I heard of this hard-boiled chap
He was hardened to every knock or rap.
And tumbling 'round with a gladsome whoop
As acrobat in a circus troupe.
And he'd say, "I lay my success in life
To the good old Hen and the Farmer's Wife,
Who taught me early the only way
To get along, which I'm pleased to say,
Is good advice for both eggs and folks,
People with hearts, or eggs with yolks.

Humpty Junior as acrobat

A fresh egg never can prosper 'steady.'
Don't leave home till you're good and ready."


THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, November 3, 1918.

 

Puzzles

The Forgetful Poet stubbed his thumb and cannot send in any puzzles, but when his head is better he will send some. That's just what he said, so you needn't blame me if it sounds funny.

Last week's answers were: A potato has a jacket, but no vest; a wave has no family, yet a crest; mines are like peaches because they have pits, and battlefields like beaches because they are strewn with shells. The Kaiser is like a prune because he has a stone heart, and a Scotchman like a dune because he is full of sand. And here is a puzzle I made up my ownself:

What runs up and down and yet stands still;
Why is a man's face like a hill?


Copyright © 2008 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.