The Jingle Book

Now young Sir Rat we next behold,
With manner brave and visage bold,
Go marching down
To London town,
Where wondrous things are sold.
We see him stop
At a large shop,
And with the bland clerk’s courteous aid
This was the purchase that he made:
A bicycle of finest make,
With modern gear and patent brake,
Pedometer, pneumatic tire,
And spokes that looked like silver wire,
A lantern bright
To shine at night,
Enamel finish, nickel plate,
And all improvements up to date.
Said sly Sir Rat: “It suits me well,
Especially that sweet-toned bell.”

The shades of night were falling fast
When Sir Rat turned toward home at last.
The neighbors watched him as he passed
And said: “What is that queer-shaped thing?
Surely that can’t be made to ring.”
Sir Rat went on, nor stayed
To hear the jests they made;
And just outside the old cat’s gate
He stopped and boldly braved his fate,
For if that cat
Should smell a rat
How quickly he’d come out and catch him,
And with what gusto he’d despatch him!
Sir Rat, against the picket-fence
Leaned the machine, then hurried hence,
And hid himself with glee,
And waited breathlessly
To see what that
Cantankerous cat
Would say, when in the twilight dim
He saw that brightly shining rim.

Sir Rat, though hidden quite,
And safely out of sight,
Had scarcely time to wink his eye,
When Mr. Cat came sauntering by.

“Ha! Ha!” said he,
“What’s this I see,
A bicycle! and just my size!
Well, this, indeed, is a surprise!
I’ll confiscate
This treasure great;
How quickly I’ll fly o’er the ground
When I pursue my hunting round!”

He mounted it with eager haste,
It suited well his sporting taste;
He guided it at will,
And used the brake with skill,
He grasped the handle-bars, and then—
You see it was his custom when
He did a thing, to do it well—
Of course he used the clear-toned bell!

Victory now! the deed is done!
No longer at the set of sun
The rats fly shrieking to their nests,
They saunter round with merry jests
And ne’er a thought of fear,
Knowing full well
They’ll hear the bell
When Mr. Cat draws near.

And young Sir Rat who did the deed,
Whose cleverness relieved their need,
His wondrous enterprise
Was lauded to the skies.
And everywhere his name
Was hailed with shouts of fame.

In difficulties, oft we see
Modern improvements frequently
Will prove a happy remedy.

The Rhyme of Triangular Tommy

Triangular Tommy, one morning in May,
Went out for a walk on the public highway.
Just here I will say,
’Twas a bright sunny day,
And the sky it was blue, and the grass it was green,
The same sky and grass that you’ve all of you seen;
And the birds in the trees sang their usual song,
And Triangular Tommy went trudging along.

But I can tell you
He cared naught for the view.
He did just what small boys of his age always do:
He shouted out “Scat!”