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Pinafore Palace Part 22

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I'll pat little p.u.s.s.y, And then she will purr, And thus show her thanks For my kindness to her; I'll not pinch her ears, Nor tread on her paw, Lest I should provoke her To use her sharp claw; I never will vex her, Nor make her displeased, For p.u.s.s.y can't bear To be worried or teased.

Jane Taylor.

IV

THE PALACE JEST-BOOK

_The Owl and the Eel and the Warming-Pan_



The owl and the eel and the warming-pan, They went to call on the soap-fat man.

The soap-fat man he was not within: He'd gone for a ride on his rolling-pin.

So they all came back by the way of the town, And turned the meeting-house upside down.

Laura E. Richards.

_The Fastidious Serpent_

There was a snake that dwelt in Skye, Over the misty sea, oh; He liv'd upon nothing but gooseberry-pie For breakfast, dinner, and tea, oh.

Now gooseberry-pie--as is very well known-- Over the misty sea, oh, Is not to be found under every stone, Nor yet upon every tree, oh.

And being so ill to please with his meat, Over the misty sea, oh, The snake had sometimes nothing to eat, And an angry snake was he, oh.

Then he'd flick his tongue and his head he'd shake, Over the misty sea, oh, Crying, "Gooseberry-pie! For goodness' sake Some gooseberry-pie for me, oh!"

And if gooseberry-pie was not to be had, Over the misty sea, oh, He'd twine and twist like an eel gone mad, Or a worm just stung by a bee, oh.

But though he might shout and wriggle about, Over the misty sea, oh, The snake had often to go without His breakfast, dinner, and tea, oh.

Henry Johnstone.

_Snake Story_

There was a little Serpent and he wouldn't go to school-- Oh, what a naughty little Snake!

He grinn'd and put his tongue out when they said it was the rule-- Ah, what a naughty face to make.

He wriggled off behind a stone and hid himself from sight-- Oh, what a naughty thing to do!

And went to sleep as if it were the middle of the night-- I wouldn't do like that, would you?

He dreamt of stealing linties' eggs and sucking them quite dry-- Oh, what a greedy thing to dream!

And then he dreamt that he had wings and knew the way to fly-- Ah, what a pleasure that would seem!

By came a collie dog and said, "What have we here?

Oh, it's a horrid little Snake!"

He bark'd at him and woke him up and fill'd him full of fear-- Ah, how his heart began to quake!

How the Serpent got away he really didn't know-- Oh, what a dreadful fright he got!

But he hurried all the way to school as hard as he could go, Dusty and terrified and hot.

As into school he wriggled, they were putting books away-- "Oh," says the master, "is it you?

Stand upon that stool, sir, while the others go to play; That's what a truant has to do."

Henry Johnstone.

_The Melancholy Pig_

There was a Pig, that sat alone, Beside a ruined Pump.

By day and night he made his moan: It would have stirred a heart of stone To see him wring his hoofs and groan, Because he could not jump.

Lewis Carroll.

_Hospitality_

Said a Snake to a Frog with a wrinkled skin, "As I notice, dear, that your dress is thin, And a rain is coming, I'll take you in."

John B. Tabb.

_Lost_

"_Lock the dairy door!_" Oh, hark, the c.o.c.k is crowing proudly!

"_Lock the dairy door!_" and all the hens are cackling loudly: "_Chickle, chackle, chee,_" they cry; "_we haven't got the key,_"

they cry; "_Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh, dear, wherever can it be!_" they cry.

Up and down the garden walks where all the flowers are blowing, Out about the golden fields where tall the wheat is growing, Through the barn and up the road they cackle and they chatter: Cry the children, "Hear the hens! Why, what can be the matter?"

What sc.r.a.ping and what scratching, what bristling and what hustling; The c.o.c.k stands on the fence, the wind his ruddy plumage rustling; Like a soldier grand he stands, and like a trumpet glorious Sounds his shout both far and near, imperious and victorious.

But to partlets down below, who cannot find the key, they hear, "_Lock the dairy door!_" That's all his challenge says to them, my dear.

Why they had it, how they lost it, must remain a mystery; I that tell you, never heard the first part of the history.

But if you will listen, dear, next time the c.o.c.k crows proudly, "_Lock the dairy door!_" you'll hear him tell the biddies loudly: "_Chickle, chackle, chee,_" they cry; "_we haven't got the key!_"

they cry; "_Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh, dear, wherever can it be!_" they cry.

Celia Thaxter.

_Extremes_[6]

I

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