The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Laughing Willow

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Laughing WillowThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: The Laughing WillowAuthor: Oliver HerfordRelease date: January 11, 2018 [eBook #56357]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHING WILLOW ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The Laughing WillowAuthor: Oliver HerfordRelease date: January 11, 2018 [eBook #56357]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

Title: The Laughing Willow

Author: Oliver Herford

Release date: January 11, 2018 [eBook #56357]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHING WILLOW ***

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTESome minor changes are noted at theend of the book.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Some minor changes are noted at theend of the book.

OLIVER HERFORD

Apropos de Rien

THE

LAUGHING WILLOW

VERSES AND PICTURES

OLIVER HERFORD

Author of “Artful Antics,” “The Child’s Primer of NaturalHistory,” “Overheard in a Garden,” “Fairy Godmother-in-Law,”“Astonishing Tale of a Pen and InkPuppet,” “The Confessions of aCaricaturist,” etc.

Publisher’s colophon

NEW YORKGEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

TO PEG

Oh, should some power the giftie gie herTo see hersel’ as ithers see her,I’m thinking Peg would grow sae vainHe’d take the giftie back again.

Oh, should some power the giftie gie her

To see hersel’ as ithers see her,

I’m thinking Peg would grow sae vain

He’d take the giftie back again.

THE LAUGHING WILLOWPAGEEpitaphs9The Truth About Russia11The Wedding Feast11A Mujik12The Cossack13The Three S’s14The Air Raid15Vale Diabole18The Wrong Floor21Marching to Berlin23Target Practice26The Sausage Balloon27Concerning the Crown Prince28Camouflage31The Tank32The Bird-Man33Frenzylogical Chart34Britannia Salvatrix35Father Wilhelm37The Touching Ballad of General von Beers40An Imperial Sneeze45The Rubaiyat of Billi Kaisam52War Relief57Summer Mass58ABOUT PEOPLE I HAVE METJ. M. Barrie61The Horse63The Town Cat65Towser68The Oyster70The Mouse71PEOPLE I HAVE NOT METThe Turtle77Michael O’Leary79Clorinda82Alcibiades J. Skinner85Eve90The Highbrow Hen91Sir Ippykin92The Psychology Cop95Phyllis Lee97Mrs. Seymour Fentolin99The Devil Among the Ladies101Spring105The Catfish108The Prodigal Centipede109A Ballade of Black Socks111OTHER PEOPLE INCLUDING MARK TWAINThe Gentlemen of Letters115The Women of the Better Class118Mark Twain121Prince Pompom124The Serial126The Cloud130

THE LAUGHING WILLOW

To see the Kaiser’s epitaphWould make a weeping willow laugh.

To see the Kaiser’s epitaph

Would make a weeping willow laugh.

Willy Nilly

Here lies Willy’s mortal clayIn its Mother Earth’s caresses.Willy’s soul has flown away—Where it is you have two guesses.

Here lies Willy’s mortal clay

In its Mother Earth’s caresses.

Willy’s soul has flown away—

Where it is you have two guesses.

Here lies Bill

Here lies Bill, the son of Fred.He lied alive; he now lies dead.

Here lies Bill, the son of Fred.

He lied alive; he now lies dead.

Tears, Idle Tears

Oh, stranger, dry the starting tear!Kaiser Bill is buried here.

Oh, stranger, dry the starting tear!

Kaiser Bill is buried here.

Pax

’Neath this stone lies Kaiser Bill.He sought for peace—he seeks it still.

’Neath this stone lies Kaiser Bill.

He sought for peace—he seeks it still.

Requiescat

Here Wilhelm sleeps. For Mercy’s sake,Tread softly, friend, lest he should wake!

Here Wilhelm sleeps. For Mercy’s sake,

Tread softly, friend, lest he should wake!

Ashes to Ashes

Swallow him, O Earth, for he,Did his best to swallow thee.

Swallow him, O Earth, for he,

Did his best to swallow thee.

This is a Russian Wedding Feast;Counting the Groom, there are at leastA hundred sitting down to dine,Or let us call it ninety-nine:For more than that there is no room,And no one ever counts the Groom!

This is a Russian Wedding Feast;

Counting the Groom, there are at least

A hundred sitting down to dine,

Or let us call it ninety-nine:

For more than that there is no room,

And no one ever counts the Groom!

The Mujik wears a costume weirdConsisting of a fuzzy beard,A sheep-skin blouse (the wool inside)And breeks astonishingly wide,Made from the fur of North sea Whales,And Yak-hide boots with big brass nails.

The Mujik wears a costume weird

Consisting of a fuzzy beard,

A sheep-skin blouse (the wool inside)

And breeks astonishingly wide,

Made from the fur of North sea Whales,

And Yak-hide boots with big brass nails.

The Cossack is so much at homeUpon his horse, that though he roamFrom Vladivostok to Odessa,His wife has only to address aLetter to Ivan “care his Horse”To catch her Spouse, unless of course,As sometimes happens, Ivan mayHave swapped addresses on the way.

The Cossack is so much at home

Upon his horse, that though he roam

From Vladivostok to Odessa,

His wife has only to address a

Letter to Ivan “care his Horse”

To catch her Spouse, unless of course,

As sometimes happens, Ivan may

Have swapped addresses on the way.

Without a doubt theSamovarTheSteppesandRussian SablesareOf all things Russian the best known;So in this picture I have shown

Without a doubt theSamovar

TheSteppesandRussian Sablesare

Of all things Russian the best known;

So in this picture I have shown

A Sable sitting on a flightOf Russian Steppes, before a brightNew Samovar, calm as can be,Brewing a cup of Russian Tea.

A Sable sitting on a flight

Of Russian Steppes, before a bright

New Samovar, calm as can be,

Brewing a cup of Russian Tea.

ICome into the cellar, Maud.Get a move on! Goodness gracious,There is nothing to applaudIn bravado ostentatious!Still Maud lingered, all unheeding,As the Siren sounded twice;Above the din her voice came pleading,“Are yousurethere’s no mice?”IIAbove the pandemoniumOf Siren shrill and warning DrumAnd Aircraft Gun is heard the roarOf little Freddy, ætat four;The cellar dark and dank and dimNo fascination has for him,The little darling wants to beUpstairs upon the roof and seeThe “fireworks!” “If you ask me—”Aunt Kate was overheard to say,“I’d let the dear child have his way!”IIIA hidden Crime, however slight,Is sure some day to see the light;Oh, why did Auntie come to stayWith us upon an Air-raid day!Why did we never think to tell herThat there were Lizards in the cellarOr Spiders or an Open Drain!How shall we ever now explainThat “Antique Vase” we said was lost,That Nile green horror, gold embossed,Her Wedding Present—there it layBefore her eyes, as plain as day!Wealmostwished a bomb would fallUpon the house and end it all!IVWho is that cowardly Jack HornerCrouching there in the darkest corner,Behind the furnace? Look again,That is no cringing coward, whenYour eyes become accustomed toThe darkness of the cellar, youWill see it is no other thanPhilander Jones and Marian;Make no mistake, Philander’s dreadIs not a Zeppelin overhead,But that rude moment when he’ll hearThe beastly Siren sound “All’s clear!”V“Where is Molly?” Like a Shell,Short and sharp, the question fell,Scattering every one pell mellFrom the cellar’s safe retreatThrough the house on panic feet,Basement, Attic—everywhereThey sought, one hope remained and thereOn the Drying-roof they found her,Shrapnel flashing all around her,Calm and cool ’mid war’s alarms,Hugging something in her arms.“I’s all right—don’t cwy!” said Molly,“I tame back to det my dolly!”

Come into the cellar, Maud.

Get a move on! Goodness gracious,

There is nothing to applaud

In bravado ostentatious!

Still Maud lingered, all unheeding,

As the Siren sounded twice;

Above the din her voice came pleading,

“Are yousurethere’s no mice?”

IIAbove the pandemoniumOf Siren shrill and warning DrumAnd Aircraft Gun is heard the roarOf little Freddy, ætat four;The cellar dark and dank and dimNo fascination has for him,The little darling wants to beUpstairs upon the roof and seeThe “fireworks!” “If you ask me—”Aunt Kate was overheard to say,“I’d let the dear child have his way!”

Above the pandemonium

Of Siren shrill and warning Drum

And Aircraft Gun is heard the roar

Of little Freddy, ætat four;

The cellar dark and dank and dim

No fascination has for him,

The little darling wants to be

Upstairs upon the roof and see

The “fireworks!” “If you ask me—”

Aunt Kate was overheard to say,

“I’d let the dear child have his way!”

IIIA hidden Crime, however slight,Is sure some day to see the light;Oh, why did Auntie come to stayWith us upon an Air-raid day!Why did we never think to tell herThat there were Lizards in the cellarOr Spiders or an Open Drain!How shall we ever now explainThat “Antique Vase” we said was lost,That Nile green horror, gold embossed,Her Wedding Present—there it layBefore her eyes, as plain as day!Wealmostwished a bomb would fallUpon the house and end it all!

III

A hidden Crime, however slight,

Is sure some day to see the light;

Oh, why did Auntie come to stay

With us upon an Air-raid day!

Why did we never think to tell her

That there were Lizards in the cellar

Or Spiders or an Open Drain!

How shall we ever now explain

That “Antique Vase” we said was lost,

That Nile green horror, gold embossed,

Her Wedding Present—there it lay

Before her eyes, as plain as day!

Wealmostwished a bomb would fall

Upon the house and end it all!

IVWho is that cowardly Jack HornerCrouching there in the darkest corner,Behind the furnace? Look again,That is no cringing coward, whenYour eyes become accustomed toThe darkness of the cellar, youWill see it is no other thanPhilander Jones and Marian;Make no mistake, Philander’s dreadIs not a Zeppelin overhead,But that rude moment when he’ll hearThe beastly Siren sound “All’s clear!”

Who is that cowardly Jack Horner

Crouching there in the darkest corner,

Behind the furnace? Look again,

That is no cringing coward, when

Your eyes become accustomed to

The darkness of the cellar, you

Will see it is no other than

Philander Jones and Marian;

Make no mistake, Philander’s dread

Is not a Zeppelin overhead,

But that rude moment when he’ll hear

The beastly Siren sound “All’s clear!”

V“Where is Molly?” Like a Shell,Short and sharp, the question fell,Scattering every one pell mellFrom the cellar’s safe retreatThrough the house on panic feet,Basement, Attic—everywhereThey sought, one hope remained and thereOn the Drying-roof they found her,Shrapnel flashing all around her,Calm and cool ’mid war’s alarms,Hugging something in her arms.“I’s all right—don’t cwy!” said Molly,“I tame back to det my dolly!”

“Where is Molly?” Like a Shell,

Short and sharp, the question fell,

Scattering every one pell mell

From the cellar’s safe retreat

Through the house on panic feet,

Basement, Attic—everywhere

They sought, one hope remained and there

On the Drying-roof they found her,

Shrapnel flashing all around her,

Calm and cool ’mid war’s alarms,

Hugging something in her arms.

“I’s all right—don’t cwy!” said Molly,

“I tame back to det my dolly!”

At a recent church conference it was decided to drop the Devil from the ritual.

Well! Well! so you’ve been fired,You’ve lost your job at last.It’s high time you retired,Old Boy, you’re failing fast.

Well! Well! so you’ve been fired,

You’ve lost your job at last.

It’s high time you retired,

Old Boy, you’re failing fast.

You’re getting old, you know it,You are not in the race.Admit you cannot go it,The killing, modern pace.Your methods are too dull forThe modern school of Hate,Your lake of burning sulphurIs sadly out of date.The Hohenzollern’s KulturMocks at your fiery pits,His double-headed vultureHas put yours on the fritz.Beside the fierce, blaspheming,Mail-fisted Kaiser Bill,You are a seraph beaming,An angel of good-will.But tho’ we can’t deny, sir,You’re hopelessly outclassed,You’ve one thing on the Kaiser,Which is, tho’ first and last

You’re getting old, you know it,You are not in the race.Admit you cannot go it,The killing, modern pace.

You’re getting old, you know it,

You are not in the race.

Admit you cannot go it,

The killing, modern pace.

Your methods are too dull forThe modern school of Hate,Your lake of burning sulphurIs sadly out of date.

Your methods are too dull for

The modern school of Hate,

Your lake of burning sulphur

Is sadly out of date.

The Hohenzollern’s KulturMocks at your fiery pits,His double-headed vultureHas put yours on the fritz.

The Hohenzollern’s Kultur

Mocks at your fiery pits,

His double-headed vulture

Has put yours on the fritz.

Beside the fierce, blaspheming,Mail-fisted Kaiser Bill,You are a seraph beaming,An angel of good-will.

Beside the fierce, blaspheming,

Mail-fisted Kaiser Bill,

You are a seraph beaming,

An angel of good-will.

But tho’ we can’t deny, sir,You’re hopelessly outclassed,You’ve one thing on the Kaiser,Which is, tho’ first and last

But tho’ we can’t deny, sir,

You’re hopelessly outclassed,

You’ve one thing on the Kaiser,

Which is, tho’ first and last

A failure as a devil,Yet boast of this you can:You were always on the level—And—you are a gentleman!

A failure as a devil,

Yet boast of this you can:

You were always on the level—

And—you are a gentleman!

A certain Emperor(This is a censored tale)Once pounded on the doorOf heaven with fist of mail.

A certain Emperor

(This is a censored tale)

Once pounded on the door

Of heaven with fist of mail.

Cried Peter from within,Awakened by the row,“Stop that infernal din!Who are you, anyhow?”“Don’t bandy words with me!”Thundered the visitor.“All doors to me are free.I am the Emperor.”“If you’re an Emperor,”Said Peter, “then I fearYou’ve come to the wrong floor.We take no Emperors here.“Our waiting list is filledWith martyrs brave and trueWhose blood an Emperor spilled.There is no room for you.”Cowed by Saint Peter’s look,The Emperor, with a frown,Cried, “Well, I’m damned!” and tookThe elevator—down.

Cried Peter from within,Awakened by the row,“Stop that infernal din!Who are you, anyhow?”

Cried Peter from within,

Awakened by the row,

“Stop that infernal din!

Who are you, anyhow?”

“Don’t bandy words with me!”Thundered the visitor.“All doors to me are free.I am the Emperor.”

“Don’t bandy words with me!”

Thundered the visitor.

“All doors to me are free.

I am the Emperor.”

“If you’re an Emperor,”Said Peter, “then I fearYou’ve come to the wrong floor.We take no Emperors here.

“If you’re an Emperor,”

Said Peter, “then I fear

You’ve come to the wrong floor.

We take no Emperors here.

“Our waiting list is filledWith martyrs brave and trueWhose blood an Emperor spilled.There is no room for you.”

“Our waiting list is filled

With martyrs brave and true

Whose blood an Emperor spilled.

There is no room for you.”

Cowed by Saint Peter’s look,The Emperor, with a frown,Cried, “Well, I’m damned!” and tookThe elevator—down.

Cowed by Saint Peter’s look,

The Emperor, with a frown,

Cried, “Well, I’m damned!” and took

The elevator—down.

We come from God’s own country in the ships of Uncle Sam;We’re going to get the william-goat of Kaiser Will—i—am;We know it isverboten, but we do not give a damn,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin!Berlin! Berlin! Berlin!As we go marching to Berlin!RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’ll wave the Stripes and Stars!Away, away with Emperors and Czars!And when we get the Kaiser we’ll put him behind the bars,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.We’re from the dear old U. S. A., the Land of Liberty;We’ve crossed a hundred rivers and three thousand miles of seaTo teach the Huns a thing or two about Democracy,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’ll show the Prussian swineThat Freedom is the only Right Divine,And when we catch old Kaiser Bill we’ll pitch him in the Rhine,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.We’ve left our happy homes that we may help to win the war.We’re a million strong already, and there’ll soon be millions more;And when the job is done with Kaiser Bill we’ll mop the floor,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’re going to make it hotFor all the bloody Hohenzollern lot,And when we get the Kaiser we’ll present him to his Gott,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin!Berlin! Berlin! Berlin!As we go marching to Berlin!

We come from God’s own country in the ships of Uncle Sam;

We’re going to get the william-goat of Kaiser Will—i—am;

We know it isverboten, but we do not give a damn,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin!

Berlin! Berlin! Berlin!

As we go marching to Berlin!

RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’ll wave the Stripes and Stars!Away, away with Emperors and Czars!And when we get the Kaiser we’ll put him behind the bars,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

Refrain

Hurray! Hurray! We’ll wave the Stripes and Stars!

Away, away with Emperors and Czars!

And when we get the Kaiser we’ll put him behind the bars,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

We’re from the dear old U. S. A., the Land of Liberty;We’ve crossed a hundred rivers and three thousand miles of seaTo teach the Huns a thing or two about Democracy,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

We’re from the dear old U. S. A., the Land of Liberty;

We’ve crossed a hundred rivers and three thousand miles of sea

To teach the Huns a thing or two about Democracy,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’ll show the Prussian swineThat Freedom is the only Right Divine,And when we catch old Kaiser Bill we’ll pitch him in the Rhine,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

Refrain

Hurray! Hurray! We’ll show the Prussian swine

That Freedom is the only Right Divine,

And when we catch old Kaiser Bill we’ll pitch him in the Rhine,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

We’ve left our happy homes that we may help to win the war.We’re a million strong already, and there’ll soon be millions more;And when the job is done with Kaiser Bill we’ll mop the floor,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

We’ve left our happy homes that we may help to win the war.

We’re a million strong already, and there’ll soon be millions more;

And when the job is done with Kaiser Bill we’ll mop the floor,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin! etc.

RefrainHurray! Hurray! We’re going to make it hotFor all the bloody Hohenzollern lot,And when we get the Kaiser we’ll present him to his Gott,As we go marching to Berlin!(Drums) Berlin! Berlin!Berlin! Berlin! Berlin!As we go marching to Berlin!

Refrain

Hurray! Hurray! We’re going to make it hot

For all the bloody Hohenzollern lot,

And when we get the Kaiser we’ll present him to his Gott,

As we go marching to Berlin!

(Drums) Berlin! Berlin!

Berlin! Berlin! Berlin!

As we go marching to Berlin!

At the ImperialSchützenfestFritz Pickelheim led all the rest;

At the ImperialSchützenfest

Fritz Pickelheim led all the rest;

At target practice PickelheimCould hit the Red Cross every time;At the clay-baby contest FritzScored nineteen out of twenty hits;

At target practice Pickelheim

Could hit the Red Cross every time;

At the clay-baby contest FritzScored nineteen out of twenty hits;

At the clay-baby contest Fritz

Scored nineteen out of twenty hits;

And once he won the Kaiser’s purseWith nine live babies and a nurse.

And once he won the Kaiser’s purse

With nine live babies and a nurse.

I often wonder, when we fryA Sausage, if its thoughts can fly

I often wonder, when we fry

A Sausage, if its thoughts can fly

Across the billowy ocean waveTo where its namesake stern and braveFloats like a Guardian Angel, highAbove our armies, in the sky,Serene and stately as a cloud.No wonder Sausages are proud!No wonder Sausages when friedOft-times swell up and burst with pride!

Across the billowy ocean wave

To where its namesake stern and brave

Floats like a Guardian Angel, high

Above our armies, in the sky,

Serene and stately as a cloud.

No wonder Sausages are proud!

No wonder Sausages when fried

Oft-times swell up and burst with pride!

IWhen Crown Prince Willy goes to bedIt is his wont to lay his headUpon the pillow and extendHis feet towards the other end.“But does he really wear his hatIn bed?” you ask—well, as to thatI cannot say, I never saw him,But that’s the wayIalways draw him.IIThe thing that Germans most admireIs Crownie’s coolness under fire.He loves to watch it gleam and glow’Mid fragrant smoke, an inch or soAbove his nose as he reclinesIn some Château behind the lines;If the Crown Prince had his desireHe would bealwaysunder fire!IIIWhen you or I get up at eightWe do not have to cogitateAnd rack our brains concerning justWhich suit to wear, as Princes must;The Crown Prince has a hundred suits,Including hats and belts and boots,Yet such his master-mind, he knowsWhich he must wear and just what goesWith what, which chevron, sash or sword,Each in his Royal Head is stored,Down to the detail of a spur,All in a Nut-shell, as it were!IVHere is a most uncensored sight!The Prince, in garb Pre-AdamiteTaking (but tell it not in Gath)A good old English shower-bath!

When Crown Prince Willy goes to bed

It is his wont to lay his head

Upon the pillow and extend

His feet towards the other end.

“But does he really wear his hat

In bed?” you ask—well, as to that

I cannot say, I never saw him,

But that’s the wayIalways draw him.

IIThe thing that Germans most admireIs Crownie’s coolness under fire.He loves to watch it gleam and glow’Mid fragrant smoke, an inch or soAbove his nose as he reclinesIn some Château behind the lines;If the Crown Prince had his desireHe would bealwaysunder fire!

The thing that Germans most admire

Is Crownie’s coolness under fire.

He loves to watch it gleam and glow

’Mid fragrant smoke, an inch or so

Above his nose as he reclines

In some Château behind the lines;

If the Crown Prince had his desire

He would bealwaysunder fire!

IIIWhen you or I get up at eightWe do not have to cogitateAnd rack our brains concerning justWhich suit to wear, as Princes must;The Crown Prince has a hundred suits,Including hats and belts and boots,Yet such his master-mind, he knowsWhich he must wear and just what goesWith what, which chevron, sash or sword,Each in his Royal Head is stored,Down to the detail of a spur,All in a Nut-shell, as it were!

III

When you or I get up at eight

We do not have to cogitate

And rack our brains concerning just

Which suit to wear, as Princes must;

The Crown Prince has a hundred suits,

Including hats and belts and boots,

Yet such his master-mind, he knows

Which he must wear and just what goes

With what, which chevron, sash or sword,

Each in his Royal Head is stored,

Down to the detail of a spur,

All in a Nut-shell, as it were!

IVHere is a most uncensored sight!The Prince, in garb Pre-AdamiteTaking (but tell it not in Gath)A good old English shower-bath!

Here is a most uncensored sight!

The Prince, in garb Pre-Adamite

Taking (but tell it not in Gath)

A good old English shower-bath!

VThe Prince’s shy and shrinking habitHas earned for him the nickname “Rabbit.”This irritates His Highness moreThan all his country’s grief and gore,It hurts hisamour propre, for it’sA clear case of the “Cap that fits.”But don’t you think, however funny,It’s rather rough upon the Bunny?

The Prince’s shy and shrinking habit

Has earned for him the nickname “Rabbit.”

This irritates His Highness more

Than all his country’s grief and gore,

It hurts hisamour propre, for it’s

A clear case of the “Cap that fits.”

But don’t you think, however funny,

It’s rather rough upon the Bunny?

If you can stand upon one spotAnd look like something you are notAnd wouldn’t if you could be—sayA Bean-bag or a Bale of Hay—You’ll find it quite a useful stuntTo practise on the Western Front;This picture shows how Private Dunne,Disguised as snow, deceived the Hun,Who could not possibly see throughThe Camouflage: no more can you!

If you can stand upon one spot

And look like something you are not

And wouldn’t if you could be—say

A Bean-bag or a Bale of Hay—

You’ll find it quite a useful stunt

To practise on the Western Front;

This picture shows how Private Dunne,

Disguised as snow, deceived the Hun,

Who could not possibly see through

The Camouflage: no more can you!

The Tank’s a kind of cross betweenAn Agricultural MachineAnd something fierce and Pliocene;Over embankments, trees, and walls,Trenches, barbed-wire, and forts it crawls;Nothing can stay its course—the TankHas not the least respect for RankOr File; with equal joy it squashesAll things alike, men, beasts, and—Boches.

The Tank’s a kind of cross between

An Agricultural Machine

And something fierce and Pliocene;

Over embankments, trees, and walls,

Trenches, barbed-wire, and forts it crawls;

Nothing can stay its course—the Tank

Has not the least respect for Rank

Or File; with equal joy it squashes

All things alike, men, beasts, and—Boches.

The Bird-man does not chirp and singAs Larks and Robins do in Spring,He does not moult nor does he feedOn Earthworms or Canary-seed,

The Bird-man does not chirp and sing

As Larks and Robins do in Spring,

He does not moult nor does he feed

On Earthworms or Canary-seed,

Nor does the Bird-man build a nestIn which his weary wings to rest;At night, instead, when he goes homeTo roost, he seeks an Aërodrome.

Nor does the Bird-man build a nest

In which his weary wings to rest;

At night, instead, when he goes home

To roost, he seeks an Aërodrome.

1. Humanity.6. Generosity.2. Veneration.7. Compassion.3. Love of Nature.8. Sympathy.4. Modesty.9. Chivalry.5. Imagination.10. Integrity.11. Love of Children.

Mistress of the Trident dread,With the brow of Artemis,Like Minerva, helmeted,Seven Seas her sandals kiss.

Mistress of the Trident dread,

With the brow of Artemis,

Like Minerva, helmeted,

Seven Seas her sandals kiss.

Throbs a mighty heart withalBeneath her armour of Disdain.Not for naught did Belgium call,Servia has not cried in vain.When the gauge of Hate was hurled,Seven seas at her behest,From the corners of the worldBrought the bravest and the best.From the utmost ends of earth,On their tireless waves they bore,To the Europe of their birth,Legions of the land and air,Spurning Peace, till Peace has broughtHohenzollern to his fall,And with the blood of Freemen boughtA Place in Freedom’s Sun for all.

Throbs a mighty heart withalBeneath her armour of Disdain.Not for naught did Belgium call,Servia has not cried in vain.

Throbs a mighty heart withal

Beneath her armour of Disdain.

Not for naught did Belgium call,

Servia has not cried in vain.

When the gauge of Hate was hurled,Seven seas at her behest,From the corners of the worldBrought the bravest and the best.

When the gauge of Hate was hurled,

Seven seas at her behest,

From the corners of the world

Brought the bravest and the best.

From the utmost ends of earth,On their tireless waves they bore,To the Europe of their birth,Legions of the land and air,

From the utmost ends of earth,

On their tireless waves they bore,

To the Europe of their birth,

Legions of the land and air,

Spurning Peace, till Peace has broughtHohenzollern to his fall,And with the blood of Freemen boughtA Place in Freedom’s Sun for all.

Spurning Peace, till Peace has brought

Hohenzollern to his fall,

And with the blood of Freemen bought

A Place in Freedom’s Sun for all.

To the Tune of Lewis Carroll

“You are old, Father Wilhelm,” the Crown Prince said,“And the hair’s growing thin on your pate;Do you think you are perfectly right in your head—The way you’ve been acting of late?”“In my youth,” Father Wilhelm replied to his son,“I hated my honour to stainBut, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,Why, I do it again and again.”“You are old,” said the Prince, “and you’re getting quite bent,And rheumatic, yet only just now,You turned a back somersault into your tent—Pray why did you do it, and how?”“In my youth,” Kaiser Wilhelm replied to the Prince,“I kept all my muscles in training;And I’ve practised one thing that I learned, ever since—And that’s to go in when it’s raining.”“You are old,” said the Prince, “and your head is too lightFor anything stronger than water;Yet you talk without ceasing from morning till night;Do you think, at your age, that you oughter?”“In my youth,” said the Kaiser, “I lived upon rawSpanish onions, I ate with my knife;And the strength that those onions gave to my jawHas lasted the rest of my life.”“You are old,” said the Kronprins, “and one would suppose,You would be just a little more humble;Yet you balance your crown on the end of your nose.Aren’t you frightened some day it will tumble?”

“You are old, Father Wilhelm,” the Crown Prince said,

“And the hair’s growing thin on your pate;

Do you think you are perfectly right in your head—

The way you’ve been acting of late?”

“In my youth,” Father Wilhelm replied to his son,“I hated my honour to stainBut, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,Why, I do it again and again.”

“In my youth,” Father Wilhelm replied to his son,

“I hated my honour to stain

But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again.”

“You are old,” said the Prince, “and you’re getting quite bent,And rheumatic, yet only just now,You turned a back somersault into your tent—Pray why did you do it, and how?”

“You are old,” said the Prince, “and you’re getting quite bent,

And rheumatic, yet only just now,

You turned a back somersault into your tent—

Pray why did you do it, and how?”

“In my youth,” Kaiser Wilhelm replied to the Prince,“I kept all my muscles in training;And I’ve practised one thing that I learned, ever since—And that’s to go in when it’s raining.”

“In my youth,” Kaiser Wilhelm replied to the Prince,

“I kept all my muscles in training;

And I’ve practised one thing that I learned, ever since—

And that’s to go in when it’s raining.”

“You are old,” said the Prince, “and your head is too lightFor anything stronger than water;Yet you talk without ceasing from morning till night;Do you think, at your age, that you oughter?”

“You are old,” said the Prince, “and your head is too light

For anything stronger than water;

Yet you talk without ceasing from morning till night;

Do you think, at your age, that you oughter?”

“In my youth,” said the Kaiser, “I lived upon rawSpanish onions, I ate with my knife;And the strength that those onions gave to my jawHas lasted the rest of my life.”

“In my youth,” said the Kaiser, “I lived upon raw

Spanish onions, I ate with my knife;

And the strength that those onions gave to my jaw

Has lasted the rest of my life.”

“You are old,” said the Kronprins, “and one would suppose,You would be just a little more humble;Yet you balance your crown on the end of your nose.Aren’t you frightened some day it will tumble?”

“You are old,” said the Kronprins, “and one would suppose,

You would be just a little more humble;

Yet you balance your crown on the end of your nose.

Aren’t you frightened some day it will tumble?”

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