THE BOOK.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue XXII, 1 June 1895, Page 528

THE BOOK.

OR TO SPEAK MORE CURIOUSLY, THE SEX-MANIACAL NOVEL, AS IT APPEARS TO THE UNENLIGHTENED INTELLIGENCE OE BOWDLEK, JUNIOR. A uthor loquitur :— I COME from haunts of prig and crank, I fill balf-cultnred crama— By booming notions ‘ new ’ and ‘ frank,’ — With morbid monomania. Though freed from humour, style, or taste, And all such superstitions. My stories go with breathless haste Through half a score editions. And I intend to break in two Decorum’s rusty fetter ; For books may come, and books be blue. But I will go one better. I chatter lovingly about Neurotic noodles’ quarrels; I babble, gabble, squeal, and shout Eternally of morale. And there I draw a fractious wife As balmy as a hatter. Who’ll rave about I he Sexes’ strife. Through reams of risky chatter : And here I deck my pages o’er With tags from jaundiced rhymers, And scraps of social science lore Mislearned from shilling primers And blend the whole, to break in two Decorum’s rusty fetter ; For books may come, and books be blue, But I will go one better. You’ll never find a single word Between my flaring covers Of anything so quite absurd As sane and happy lovers. I preach, I screech, T storm, I wail, O’er marriage and its terrors ; I make the wretched critics pale With orthographic errors. I maunder on through arid tracts Of gloom past comprehension, I linger round unpleasant facts With very marked attention. And do my best to break in two Decorum’s rusty fetter ; For books may come, and books be blue. But I will go one better. Bowdler, Junior.