335 THE TABLE AND THE CHAIR EDWARD LEAR Said the Table to the Chair, And from chilblains on my feet. Said the Chair unto the Table, When you know we cannot walk!" So they both went slowly down, As they hastened to their side, But in going down an alley, Then they whispered to each other, Dined, and danced upon their heads Till they toddled to their beds. 336 THE POBBLE WHO HAS NO TOES EDWARD LEAR The Pobble who has no toes Had once as many as we; When they said, "Some day you may lose them all"; He replied "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!" 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." 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 farther side, "He has gone to fish for his Aunt Jobiska's Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!" But before he touched the shore, The shore of the Bristol Channel, A sea-green Porpoise carried away His wrapper of scarlet flannel. And when he came to observe his feet, Formerly garnished with toes so neat, His face at once became forlorn On perceiving that all his toes were gone! And nobody ever knew, From that dark day to the present, Whoso had taken the Pobble's toes, In a manner so far from pleasant. Whether the shrimps or crawfish gray, Or crafty Mermaids stole them awayNobody knew; and nobody knows How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes! The Pobble who has no toes Was placed in a friendly Bark, And they rowed him back, and carried him up To his Aunt Jobiska's Park. And she made him a feast at his earnest wish Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish;And she said,-"It's a fact the whole world knows, That Pobbles are happier without their toes." 337 The two great classics among modern nonsense books are Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. They are in prose with poems interspersed. "The Walrus and the Carpenter," is from Through the Looking Glass, while "A Strange Wild Song," is from Sylvie and Bruno. This latter book never achieved the success of its forerunners, though it has some delightful passages, as in the case of the poem given. Lewis Carroll was the pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (18321898), an English mathematician at Oxford University. THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER "LEWIS CARROLL" The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and brightAnd this was odd, because it was The middle of the night. The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sun Had got no business to be there After the day was done"It's very rude of him," she said, "To come and spoil the fun!" The sea was wet as wet could be, The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand: They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: "If this were only cleared away," They said, "it would be grand!" "If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose," the Walrus said, "That they could get it clear?” "I doubt it," said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear. "O Oysters, come and walk with us!" We cannot do with more than four, "It seems a shame," the Walrus said, "I weep for you," the Walrus said: Those of the largest size, "O Oysters," cried the Carpenter, "You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?" But answer came there noneAnd this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one. 338 A STRANGE WILD SONG "LEWIS CARROLL" He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sister's Husband's Niece. "Unless you leave this house," he said, "I'll send for the Police." He thought he saw a Rattlesnake That questioned him in Greek: He looked again, and found it was The Middle of Next Week. "The one thing I regret," he said, "Is that it cannot speak!" He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk He looked again, and found it was "If this should stay to dine," he said, "There won't be much for us!" He thought he saw a Kangaroo That worked a coffee-mill; He looked again, and found it was A Vegetable-Pill. "Were I to swallow this," he said, "I should be very ill." He thought he saw a Coach and Four He looked again, and found it was It's waiting to be fed!" He thought he saw an Albatross That fluttered round the Lamp: He looked again, and found it was A Penny Postage-Stamp. "You'd best be getting home," he said: "The nights are very damp!" He thought he saw a Garden Door That opened with a key: He looked again, and found it was A Double-Rule-of-Three: "And all its mystery," he said, "Is clear as day to me!" He thought he saw an Argument That proved he was the Pope: He looked again, and found it was A Bar of Mottled Soap. "A fact so dread," he faintly said, "Extinguishes all hope!" 339 Isaac Watts (1674-1748) was an English minister and the writer of many hymns still included in our hymn books. He had a notion that verse might be used as a means of religious and ethical instruction for children, and wrote some poems as illustrations of his theory so that they might suggest to better poets how to carry out the idea. But Watts did this work so well that two or three of his poems and several of his stanzas have become common possessions. They are dominated, of course, by the heavy didactic moralizing, but are all so genuine and true that young readers feel their force and enjoy them. AGAINST IDLENESS AND ISAAC WATTS How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower! How skilfully she builds her cell, How neat she spreads the wax! And labors hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labor or of skill, In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last. 340 FAMOUS PASSAGES FROM O'tis a lovely thing for youth But liars we can never trust, And he that does one fault at first, And lies to hide it, makes it two. (From "Against Lying") Whatever brawls disturb the street, There should be peace at home; Birds in their little nests agree: Fall out, and chide, and fight. (From "Love between Brothers and Sisters") How proud we are! how fond to show The tulip and the butterfly Let me be dressed fine as I will, Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still. Then will I set my heart to find Knowledge and virtue, truth and grace, (From "Against Pride in Clothes") Let dogs delight to bark and bite, But, children, you should never let (From "Against Quarreling and Fighting") Most of the work of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) is within the range of children's interests and comprehension. Three poems are given here, "The Skeleton in Armor," as representative of Longfellow's large group of narrative poems, "The Day Is Done," as an expression of the value of poetry in everyday life, and "The Psalm of Life," as the finest and most popular example of his hortatory poems. 341 "The Skeleton in Armor" is one of Longfellow's first and best American art ballads. In Newport, Rhode Island, is an old stone tower known as the "Round Tower," which some people think was built by the Northmen, though it probably was not. In 1836 workmen unearthed a strange skeleton at Fall River, Massachusetts. It was wrapped in bark and coarse cloth. On the breast was a plate of brass, and around the waist was a belt of brass tubes. Apparently it was not the skeleton of an Indian, and people supposed it might have been that of one of the old Norsemen. Longfellow used these two historic facts as a basis for the plot of his poem, which he wrote in 1840. THE SKELETON IN ARMOR HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW "Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! |