VERSE OLD AND NEW

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 7, 16 February 1907, Page 25

VERSE OLD AND NEW

The Suburbanite. Behold the guy MulMlii*MiU(e. Who tram pH the numbly road. He whistles, mid his heart is light. Though heavy be his toad. The beacon window glow hr spies Through snow and rain and sleet. He wipes the moisture from his ryes, And then he wipes his feet. Inside the house he finds it dryer, But cold. lie takes a look. The cook has failed to make the fire, And so hr fires the cook. The larder's empty. Ait the shops Within the neighbourhood Are closed. lie thinks he’d like some chops. Ami so he ehops some wood. His exercise is quite a strain. With dumb-bells and with hatchet. For he who runs to catch a train Must (rain to run and catch it. No breakfast bis. With might and main He runs. Time will not wait, For if he’s late to catch a train The train is never late. But when he’s early on the spot, To show its mighty power The 7.10 train, as like as not. Is late an even hour. »SAM. S. STINSON. & © © Household News. The reading-lamp was reading And the savings-bank was saving. While the kneading-board was kneading And the shaving-mug was shaving; put the looking-glass was looking In ail different directions (While the cuckoo clock was cooking) And was making some reflections. i’hen the inklng-pad ceased inking. For the looking-giasa was jibing (That the drinkink-glass was drinking More than it should be Imbibing; And the telephone was telling What was mentioned by the mirror, And the spelling-book was spelling All the words, to make It. clearer. Yes. the writing-desk was writing All the looking-glass’ gossip — AH the. innuendoes biting On the drinking-glass it saw sip; A»d the prayer-rug. was praying That they should avoid a quarrel, from all that they were saying Struggled li ard to fetch a moral. I'hen the whisk-broom started whisking Back and forth to tell the others Hf how much they nil were risking. When they should agree as brothers—(Suddenly in came the mistress. And she halted al the border Df the room and said In distress. “Why. the place is in disorder!” © © © The Motor Boat. In the good old days of yore Ipay, In Nineleen-huudred-four The seahorse was a dandy place to rest hi! There was not too much excitement. And good sleep was what the night meant. And a daily nap or two the day was blest in! Oh, the change that’s taken place! Motor boats are in the race. With their p-p-patpi<nliug.P-p-perpelual I’a -pa-pa - pa pelcrpiperpiektapcekd-lrtckledpeppers-pa-pa-i»a pa-pup pup! \ Now before the dawn of day Spreads Its crimson on Ihe bay. When the lulling waves Invite to sweetest slumber. Then from oul the river mouth F-p-puffing east or p p-pufling south. Dash the motor Imais in cver-gr<«wmg number. Sleep they drive from lovely eyes; Men breathe oaths of lurid dyes. •And the noisome nuisance of their potent p-p-puffing ■ Pa - pa - pa - i»a - pcicrpiperplekt aperko* ph•kledpepjMTH-pa-pa-pa-pa-pup pup! You are sitting on the shore With the fair one you adore; On your lips the all momentous question hovers, When, with sudden discord, round . Lobster Point. with horrid sound. Comes the motor boat detestable to lovers.* Bullions to sentiment. On the coast sweet bays Indent, Is the motor boa I. wit h nauseous smelling gasoline of lowest grade And its pa-pa pa-pu pelerpiperptrk(apecko. plrkledpeppcra-pa-pa-pup pup! They ha ve driven on I Ihe ddries Will'll wen- i.I. hirenqHe 111 aloriwt, Ainl » yislnn for • 1 “’ enleipriHiriK painter, Now the oiirleas ll.sheriiuin Fill. »« engine r '">" * ... ' Aha p-p piiffH "111 <••'* W UI« mdae Hint grows ii" fainter. How 1 hate Ute molar boat! Ruphuie. wink the «ue« afloat. Or: Invent II in.ilHolesa "he without IU i>pprovuklug , ... PA - uh - pa - • pelernlperiileklapeeko-j>lckleilpepper.-i»« l»« P" P“ P«P l'“pl

Girls I Have Known, The liveliest gin f ever met Was charming Annie Mation; Exceeding sweet was Carry Mel; Helpful, Amelia Kat ion. Nicer than Jenny Itosity II would be hard lo find: Lovely was Rhoda Dendron, too. One of the -flower kind. I did not fancy Polly Gon, Too angular was she; Ami 1 could never take at ail To Annie Moslty. I rather liked Miss Sarah Na de. Her voice was full of charm; Hester leal 100 nervous was. She filled me with alarm. E. Lucy Date was clear of face. Her skin was like a shell: Miss Ella Gant was rather nice. Though she was awful swell. A clinging girl was Jessie Mine, I asked Iler me to marry in vain — now Life is full of fights. For I’m joined to Millie Tary. © © © The Elocutionist’s Curfew. England’s sun was slowly setting- (Raise your right hand to your brow). Filling all the land with beauty—(Wear a gaze of rapture now): And the last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden fair (With a movement slow and graceful you may now push back your hair); lie with sad, bowed head—(A drooping of your head will be all right. Till you hoarsely, sadly whisper) ‘‘Curfew must not ring to-night.” “Sexton.” Bessie’s white lips faltered (Try here to resemble Bess. Though of course you know she’d never worn quite such a charming dress),. “I’ve a lover in that prison—(Don’t-forg»t to roll your r’s And to shiver as though gazing through the iron prison bars). “Cromwell will not come till sunset” - (Speak each word as though you’d bite Every syllable to pieces)—“Curfew must not ring to-lilght.” “Bessie.” calmly spoke the sexton - (Here extend your velvet palm, Let it tremble like the sexton s as though striving to be calm). “Long, long y’ars I’ve rung the curfew”— (Don’t forget to make it y’ars). With a pitiful inflection that a world of sorrow bears), “I.have, done my duty ever” (Draw yourself up to your height. For you’re speaking as the sexton) — “Gyurl, tlte curfew rings to-night!” Out site swung, far out—(now here U where you’ve got to do your best; Let your head be twisted backward, let great sobs heave up your chest, Swing your right foot through an arc of ninety lineal degrees. Then come down and swing your loft foot, and be sure don’t bend your knees; Keep this up for fifteen minutes till your face<is worn and white. Then gaze at your mangled fingers) — “Cuisfew shall not ring to-night!” O’er the distant hills came Cromwell — (Right hand Io the brow once more: Let your eyes look down the distance, say above the entrance door) Al his foot she told her story (Lift you It hands as though they hurt) Ami her sweet young face so haggard - (Novy your pathos you assert. Then you straighten up as Cromwell, and be sure you gel II right: Don't say “Go. your liver loves’” - well: “I’Trfew shall not ring to-night!” l —W. D. NESBIT In “Harper’s Magazine.” © © © Loveliness. Cold, sharp laincnlallfn in the cold, bitter winds Ever blowing across the sky; Oh. there was loneliness with me! The loud-sou mil ng of the waves Beating against the shore. Their vast, rough, heavy outcry. oh, there was loneliness with met The light sea-gulls In the air, Crying sharply through the harbours. The cries and screams of the birds With my own heart. Oh! that was loneItIICHS. The voice of the winds and the tide, Ami the long battle of the mighty wart The sea, the earth, the skies, the blowing of the winds. Oh, there was loneliness In all of them together. Ry Douglas Hyde. © © © Forgiveness. Your love may forgive your o(Tcnee a You may think il Is over ami done, Uul she’ll never forget she forgave—« Your punishment's only beguul