LIMERICKS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 3, 21 January 1905, Page 41

LIMERICKS.

BY FHEDERICK BALL. There was an old man of Terrentuni, .Who gnashed his false teeth till be bent ’em. When asked what he’d lost, And what they had cost. He replied: "I don’t know—l just rent ’em.” When every weekly and almost every daily pqper Is bursting into humour In this form, and when the spontaneous production of such verses Is regarded as an up-to-date method of entertaining an evening company, it may be a surptise to some to learn that the Limerick is this year celebrnting Its fifty-eighth birthday, having made its debut in literature in ISM

The uninitiated will be further surprised to learn that the first extensive user of thia fantastic, not to say flippant, form was a learned ornithologist, the author of a most serious and scientific work upon "The Family of the Psittacidae.” But the felect will smile, remembering that the author of "The Jabberwock” and “The Hunting of the Shark" wrote also "A Syllabus of Algebraical Geometry" and "A Treatise on Determinants."

Edward Lear, however, though bis "Book of Nonsense Verse” contains tue first published Limericks, lays no claim to the invention of the form, which he says was suggested to him by an unnamed friend. During his life he produced no less than two hundred twelve stanzas In this form, and among them are numbered such gems as:

There once was a man with a beard, Who said: “It is just as I feared — Two owls and a hen, Four larks apd a wren, Have all made their nests In my beard. And also:

There was an old man of Thermopylae, Who never did anything properly; ' But they said: "If you choose To boil eggs in your shoes, You cannot remain at Thermopylae.”

To parody such a production as this might hastily be declared Impossible. Hut witness the performance of W. S. Gilbert, of Sullivan and Gilbert fame:

There was an old man of St. Bees, Who was stung on the arm by a wasp, When asked: "Does It hurt?" He replied: “No, it doesn’t; But I thought all the while ’twas a hornet.”

Speaking of impossibilities, there is an anonymous Limerick which declares:

There was n young maid who said: "Why Can’t I look in my ear with my’ eye? If I give my mind, to it, I’m sure I can do it— You never can tell till you try."

The reason for calling this form of verse a Limerick is veiled in mystery. Edward Lear does not stand sponsor for the name, and it may as well be confessed that the question might not be greatly helped it he did. He does stand sponsor for such appalling syllabic concatenations as "scroobious,” “meioobious," "onibllfcrous,” "borascible” and "slobacious," and whether the lexicographer finds their etymology any clearer on that account may well "be doubted.

A dozen or more years ago “The St. Nicholas” published a series of animal Limericks, illustrated by Birch, of which the following may' serve as an example:

There once was an ichthyosaurus, .Who lived when the earth was al! porous; But he fainted with shame When he first heard his name, And departed a great while before us.

More recently this playful form of verse found a congenial harbour in the columns of “The Lark,” a periodical devoted wholly to nonsense and from which every contribution having the faintest suspicion of Intelligence was rigidly excluded. Gelett Burgess, who has enriched our literature with the immortal “Purple Cow," was its editor, and in it appeared somb of the muster Limericks of the century, as:

I wish that my room had a floor— I don’t eare so much for a door — But this walking around— Without touching the ground Is getting to be quite a bore.

Alas! "The Lark” has sung its swansong and warbles no more! One Limerick has the distinction of being credited to Budyard Kipling:

There was a small boy of Quebec. Who was burled in snow to his neck. When asked: “Are sou friz?” He replied: “Yes I is; But we don’t call this cold in Quebec."

The greater number, however, aro anonymaus, and may be moat easily classified, according to subject. Tills, for example, treats of a historical theme: rieopntro, who thought they maligned her, Resolved to reform end be kinder; •"IT, when pettish," she mid, "I should knock off your head. Won’t you give me soure gentle reminder?” The following may be selected as an example of tragedy treated in the Llmeriek form: There was a young man named McCall, J ’ Who went te a fancy-dreas ball. He thought, just for fun, He would drew like a bnn. And was eat by the dog kn the balk

Also: There was a young lady from Lynn, Who was so exceedingly thin That when she essayed To drink lemonade. She slipped through the straw and fell Certain Limericks find their chief charm In a satiric touch, and It is not Biirprislqa to occasionally Und the fulg sex the victims: Eliza, she never was nifty, She was kindly and gentle and thrifty. She gave poor people pies, And she never made eyes— But then—she was seven and fifty. But there are others who suffer: There wns a young man so benighted He couldn’t tell when be was slighted, Aud out at a party He’d eat just as hearty As if he’d been really invited. And it is sad to note that even the clergy have not been spared: A eurate onee smote at a tee, And threw his new club up a tree, Saying "Fie! My! Oh, dear! I must give up, I fear, Either golf or the ministree." Occasionally good advice is made the subject of a Limerick. Note this one, which bears the title, "Make the Best of Adverse Circumstances:" There was a young person named Clyde, Who was onee at a funeral espied. When asked who was dead. Ho smilingly said “I don’t know—l just came for the ride.” The following is unclassified: There was a yonng fellow named Tate, Who ate with his girl at 8.08. Since Tate did not state, 1 cannot relate What Tate at his tete-a-tete ate at 8.08Of the modern Limerick writers, Carolyn Wells, the creator of “Gentle Jane,-" Is one of the most prolific, und also one of the most successful. Though from th? standpoint of a critic she has taken nonsense seriously, there is no lack In her verses of either spontaneity or "point,” which is more than may be said of all modern Limericks; for It Is a sad faet (howbeit one of which many writers show abnndant ignorance) that everything which is written in the Limerick form is not funny.