A Parody Anthology. Wells Carolyn

      GATHER Kittens while you may,

      Time brings only Sorrow;

      And the Kittens of To-day

      Will be Old Cats To-morrow.

      WHEN like a bud my Julia blows

      In lattice-work of silken hose,

      Pleasant I deem it is to note

      How, 'neath the nimble petticoat,

      Above her fairy shoe is set

      The circumvolving zonulet.

      And soothly for the lover's ear

      A perfect bliss it is to hear

      About her limb so lithe and lank

      My Julia's ankle-bangle clank.

      Not rudely tight, for 'twere a sin

      To corrugate her dainty skin;

      Nor yet so large that it might fare

      Over her foot at unaware;

      But fashioned nicely with a view

      To let her airy stocking through:

      So as, when Julia goes to bed,

      Of all her gear disburdenèd,

      This ring at least she shall not doff

      Because she cannot take it off.

      And since thereof I hold the key,

      She may not taste of liberty,

      Not though she suffer from the gout,

      Unless I choose to let her out.

      THE hale John Sprat – oft called for shortness, Jack —

      Had married – had, in fact, a wife – and she

      Did worship him with wifely reverence.

      He, who had loved her when she was a girl,

      Compass'd her, too, with sweet observances;

      E'en at the dinner table did it shine.

      For he – liking no fat himself – he never did,

      With jealous care piled up her plate with lean,

      Not knowing that all lean was hateful to her.

      And day by day she thought to tell him o 't,

      And watched the fat go out with envious eye,

      But could not speak for bashful delicacy.

      At last it chanced that on a winter day,

      The beef – a prize joint! – little was but fat;

      So fat, that John had all his work cut out,

      To snip out lean fragments for his wife,

      Leaving, in very sooth, none for himself;

      Which seeing, she spoke courage to her soul,

      Took up her fork, and, pointing to the joint

      Where 'twas the fattest, piteously she said;

      “Oh, husband! full of love and tenderness!

      What is the cause that you so jealously

      Pick out the lean for me. I like it not!

      Nay, loathe it – 'tis on the fat that I would feast;

      O me, I fear you do not like my taste!"

      Then he, dropping his horny-handled carving knife,

      Sprinkling therewith the gravy o'er her gown,

      Answer'd, amazed: “What! you like fat, my wife!

      And never told me. Oh, this is not kind!

      Think what your reticence has wrought for us;

      How all the fat sent down unto the maid —

      Who likes not fat – for such maids never do —

      Has been put in the waste-tub, sold for grease,

      And pocketed as servant's perquisite!

      Oh, wife! this news is good; for since, perforce,

      A joint must be not fat nor lean, but both;

      Our different tastes will serve our purpose well;

      For, while you eat the fat – the lean to me

      Falls as my cherished portion. Lo! 'tis good!"

      So henceforth – he that tells the tale relates —

      In John Sprat's household waste was quite unknown;

      For he the lean did eat, and she the fat,

      And thus the dinner-platter was all cleared.

      SINGEE a songee sick a pence,

      Pockee muchee lye;

      Dozen two time blackee bird

      Cookee in e pie.

      When him cutee topside

      Birdee bobbery sing;

      Himee tinkee nicey dish

      Setee foree King!

      Kingee in a talkee loom

      Countee muchee money;

      Queeny in e kitchee,

      Chew-chee