The Bee's Bayonet (a Little Honey and a Little Sting)

You Pickaninnies hustle now, and do the proper bagging!
The possum's cooking, Honey!
And when the work is thru we'll do our banjo stunts, and ragging
And get our "Cakewalk" money.

A SHATTERED ROMANCE

My heart is aflame with a love that enslaves
My passion for thee is afire;
My soul is athirst for the love that it craves,
And you are the one I admire.

Pray speak, Dear! and say your affections are mine,
And all the sweet charms you possess;
Then I will surrender my wishes to thine
And be but thy slave, I confess.

When she answered, at length, I felt very sure
I'd pleaded my cause quite enough;
"You're the one man on earth I couldn't endure,
So cut out that comedy stuff!"

THE MILKY WAY

I went to school, like any lad,
And learned to read and write:
With pencil, books and writing-pad
I grew quite erudite.

Promoted soon, my Teacher thought
I would some day, be great;
And so painstakingly he taught
Me how to conjugate.

And talked to me about the Moon,
Of Venus, Saturn, Mars,
Till I was rated, very soon,
Authority on Stars.

A graduate, I searched the skies
For orbs unknown before,
Determined that I'd specialize
In Astronomic lore:

But how to buy a telescope
And all the charts required?
An attick was my only hope
Of all the things desired:

And so I compromised and bought
Binoculars and case,
And ev'ry night the Stars I sought
At Daly's Burlesque Place.

The one, bright, meteoric Flame
In all that stellar group,
Soon fell for me; then took my name
And quit the Burlesque Troupe.

But I'm eclipsed! the Satellite
That twinkles in the crib,
Keeps Mother pinning, day and night,
A didy or a bib.

THE LOGOTHETE

"Beware the dog!" Beware the Logothete!
The Octoped with elephantine feet:
(I mean by this—with the big understanding;
The Byzantine Pup of Theodore's branding.)
A thousand years chained to Hellespont's brink,
He never once whimpered or lapped up a drink.
Hydrophobia? No! just aphasia,
'Cause he couldn't cross over to Asia.

The old Logothete is the Watch Dog of State:
He feeds upon figures (he'll cipher an eight!)
And starts ev'ry meal with a twelve or sixteen,
Then multiplies units to munch on between.
Voracity thus as an integer stands
For his diurnal gorge on multiplicands.
Numerical strength makes the Logothete thrive,
And fractions he dotes on—just eats 'em alive!

He lashes his tail by Marmora's flood,
But eats from the hand of Sultan Ahmud;
A collar of gold, set with aquamarines,
Makes him the envy of Justin's near-queens;
His Kennel-Kiosque (the hyphen's germane!)
Rivals the harems of Constantine's reign.
Innocuous? No! nor yet desuetude,
For he daily absorbs whole columns of food.

His teeth are as sharp as the Damaskeene blade
That severed the chains on the Macedon maid;
And as keen as the knife avenging the dame
Who was sold to the Sheik in Mesopotame.
But the point that I make—no whimper or yelp
Had ever been voiced by this Logothete whelp
Until Archæologists, searching the grounds,