The Jingle Book

And your feet must be quite handy when you want to run a race;
But though you gain in some ways, in some other ways you lose;
And, of course, my friend, you must be quite extravagant in shoes.”

“Ah! yes. Ah! yes,” a heavy sigh escaped the Centipede;
“And I have other trials, too;—my life is hard indeed!
Why, sometimes when I’m very tired, a long, long time it takes
To ascertain with certainty which foot it is that aches.

“And when I go to dancing-class on Saturdays at three,
I find the First Position very difficult for me.
Though I put my best foot foremost, and good time I try to keep,
To my chagrin, I often find a foot or two asleep.

Athletics I attempted, but, alas! I must admit
That every exercise I tried I put my foot in it.
I think I’ll join a foot-ball team,—as many friends suggest,—
Before I’ve one foot in the grave and gout in all the rest.

But now I’ll say good-morning; for, my friend, I have to stop
To get my boots blacked neatly at this little boot-black’s shop;
And, as you may imagine, it will keep me here some time,
But, what is worse, I’ll have to pay him many a hard-earned dime.”

The Spider said good-morning, and pursued his way alone,
And as he went he murmured, in a thoughtful undertone:
“I’m a happy little Spider, and I’m very glad indeed,
That I was born an octoped and not a centipede!”

The Smiling Shark

There was an old Shark with a smile
So broad you could see it a mile.
He said to his friends,
As he sewed up the ends,
“It was really too wide for the style.”

The Mercury’s Plaint

I don’t know why I’m slandered so,
If I go high,—if I go low,—
There’s always some one who will say,
“Just see that mercury to-day!”
And whether toward the top I crawl
Or down toward zero I may fall,
They always fret, and say that I
Am far too low or far too high.
Although I try with all my might,
I never seem to strike it right.
Now I admit it seems to me
They show great inconsistency.
But they imply I am to blame;
Of course that makes my anger flame,
And in a fiery fit of pique
I stay at ninety for a week.
Or sometimes in a dull despair,
I give them just a frigid stare;
And as upon their taunts I think
My spirits down to zero sink.
Mine is indeed a hopeless case;
To strive to please the human race!

The Pirate Poodle

Once there was a Pirate Poodle,
And he sailed the briny seas
From the land of Yankee Doodle
Southward to the Caribbees.

He would boast with tales outlandish,
Of his valor and renown;
And his cutlass he would brandish
With a fearful pirate frown.

So ferocious was his manner
All his crew looked on, aghast;
And his fearful pirate banner
Floated from his pirate mast.

He reiterated proudly
Naught had power to make him quail;
Yet when thunder roared too loudly
He would turn a trifle pale.

And he turned a little paler
When there came a sudden squall;
For this funny little sailor
Was ridiculously small.

And whene’er a storm portended
He’d betake himself below.
So much fear and courage blended
Did a pirate ever show?

An Old Love

Priscilla, Auntie’s promised me
A brand-new Paris doll;
And though I love you, yet you see
I cannot keep you all.