The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Mythological ZooThis 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 Mythological ZooAuthor: Oliver HerfordRelease date: December 6, 2007 [eBook #23749]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Geetu Melwani and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYTHOLOGICAL ZOO ***
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 Mythological ZooAuthor: Oliver HerfordRelease date: December 6, 2007 [eBook #23749]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Geetu Melwani and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)
Title: The Mythological Zoo
Author: Oliver Herford
Author: Oliver Herford
Release date: December 6, 2007 [eBook #23749]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Geetu Melwani and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYTHOLOGICAL ZOO ***
How did Medusa do her hair?The question fills me with despair.It must have caused her sore distressThat head of curling snakes to dress.Whenever after endless toilShe coaxed it finally to coil,The music of a Passing BandWould cause each separate hair to standOn end and sway and writhe and spit,—She couldn't "do a thing with it."And, being woman and awareOf such disaster to her hair,Whatcouldshe do but petrifyAll whom she met, with freezing eye?
How did Medusa do her hair?The question fills me with despair.It must have caused her sore distressThat head of curling snakes to dress.Whenever after endless toilShe coaxed it finally to coil,The music of a Passing BandWould cause each separate hair to standOn end and sway and writhe and spit,—She couldn't "do a thing with it."And, being woman and awareOf such disaster to her hair,Whatcouldshe do but petrifyAll whom she met, with freezing eye?
The Siren may be said to beThe Chorus-Lady of the Sea;Tho' Mermaids claim her as their kin,Instead of fishy tail and finTwo shapely feet rejoice the view(With all that appertains thereto).When to these other charms we addA voice that drives the hearer mad,Who will dispute her claim to beThe Chorus-Lady of the Sea?
The Siren may be said to beThe Chorus-Lady of the Sea;Tho' Mermaids claim her as their kin,Instead of fishy tail and finTwo shapely feet rejoice the view(With all that appertains thereto).When to these other charms we addA voice that drives the hearer mad,Who will dispute her claim to beThe Chorus-Lady of the Sea?
The Dolphin was, if you should wishTo call him so,—the King of Fish.Though having neither gills nor scales,His titleshould bePrince of Whales.While too small waisted to provideA Jonah with a Berth Inside,The Dolphin has been known to packA Drowning Sailor on his backAnd bear him safely into port,—He was a Taxi-whale, in short.
The Dolphin was, if you should wishTo call him so,—the King of Fish.Though having neither gills nor scales,His titleshould bePrince of Whales.While too small waisted to provideA Jonah with a Berth Inside,The Dolphin has been known to packA Drowning Sailor on his backAnd bear him safely into port,—He was a Taxi-whale, in short.
If you will listen to adviceYou will avoid the Cockatrice—A caution I need hardly sayWholly superfluous to-day.Yet had you lived when they were rifeSuch warning might have saved your life.To meet the Cockatrice's eyeMeans certain death—and that is whyWhen I its features here portrayI make it look the other way.O Cockatrice! were you so meanWhat must theHenatrice have been!
If you will listen to adviceYou will avoid the Cockatrice—A caution I need hardly sayWholly superfluous to-day.Yet had you lived when they were rifeSuch warning might have saved your life.To meet the Cockatrice's eyeMeans certain death—and that is whyWhen I its features here portrayI make it look the other way.O Cockatrice! were you so meanWhat must theHenatrice have been!
Dear Reader, should you chance to goTo Hades, do not fail to throwA "Sop to Cerberus" at the gate,His anger to propitiate.Don't say "Good dog!" and hope therebyHis three fierce Heads to pacify.What though he try to be politeAnd wag his Tail with all his might,How shall one amiable TailAgainst three angry Heads prevail?The Headsmustwin.—What puzzles meIs why in Hades there should beA Watch dog; 'tis, I should surmise,Thelastplace one would burglarize.
Dear Reader, should you chance to goTo Hades, do not fail to throwA "Sop to Cerberus" at the gate,His anger to propitiate.Don't say "Good dog!" and hope therebyHis three fierce Heads to pacify.What though he try to be politeAnd wag his Tail with all his might,How shall one amiable TailAgainst three angry Heads prevail?The Headsmustwin.—What puzzles meIs why in Hades there should beA Watch dog; 'tis, I should surmise,Thelastplace one would burglarize.
She was half Lady and half cat—What is so wonderful in that?Half of our lady friends (so sayThe other half) areCatsto-day.In Egypt she made quite a stir,They carved huge Images of her.Riddles she asked of all she metAnd all who answered wrong, she ate.When Œdipus her riddle solvedThe minx—I mean the Sphinx—dissolvedIn tears. What is there, when one thinks,So wonderful about the Sphinx?
She was half Lady and half cat—What is so wonderful in that?Half of our lady friends (so sayThe other half) areCatsto-day.In Egypt she made quite a stir,They carved huge Images of her.Riddles she asked of all she metAnd all who answered wrong, she ate.When Œdipus her riddle solvedThe minx—I mean the Sphinx—dissolvedIn tears. What is there, when one thinks,So wonderful about the Sphinx?
O wondrous worm that won the HeightOf Fame by keeping out of sight!Never was known on Land or SeaSuch a Colossal Modesty;Never such arrogant pretenceOf Ostentatious Diffidence.Celebrity whom none has seen,Save some Post Prandial Marine,No magazine can reproduceYour Photograph.—Oh, what's the useOf doing things when one may beSo Famous a Nonentity!
O wondrous worm that won the HeightOf Fame by keeping out of sight!Never was known on Land or SeaSuch a Colossal Modesty;Never such arrogant pretenceOf Ostentatious Diffidence.Celebrity whom none has seen,Save some Post Prandial Marine,No magazine can reproduceYour Photograph.—Oh, what's the useOf doing things when one may beSo Famous a Nonentity!
The Salamander made his bedAmong the glowing embers red.A Fiery Furnace, to his mind,Hygiene and Luxury combined.He was, if I may put it so,A Saurian Abednigo.He loved to climb with nimble easeThe branches of the Gas-log TreesWhere oft on chilly winter nightsHe rose to dizzy Fahrenheits.Believers in Soul TransmigrationSee in him the Re-incarnationOf those Sad Plagues of summer, whoAsk, "Is it hot enough for you?"
The Salamander made his bedAmong the glowing embers red.A Fiery Furnace, to his mind,Hygiene and Luxury combined.He was, if I may put it so,A Saurian Abednigo.He loved to climb with nimble easeThe branches of the Gas-log TreesWhere oft on chilly winter nightsHe rose to dizzy Fahrenheits.Believers in Soul TransmigrationSee in him the Re-incarnationOf those Sad Plagues of summer, whoAsk, "Is it hot enough for you?"
To call a Jinn the only thingOne needed was a magic ring.You rubbed the ring and forth there cameA monster born of smoke and flame,A thing of Vapor, Fume and GlareReady to waft you anywhere.The magic Jinns of yesterdayThe wand of Science now obey.You ring, and lo! with rush and roarThe panting monster's at the door,A thing of Vapor, Fume and GlareReady to take you anywhere.What's in a name? What choice betweenThe Giants, Jinn and Gasolene?
To call a Jinn the only thingOne needed was a magic ring.You rubbed the ring and forth there cameA monster born of smoke and flame,A thing of Vapor, Fume and GlareReady to waft you anywhere.The magic Jinns of yesterdayThe wand of Science now obey.You ring, and lo! with rush and roarThe panting monster's at the door,A thing of Vapor, Fume and GlareReady to take you anywhere.What's in a name? What choice betweenThe Giants, Jinn and Gasolene?
Although a Fishwife in a sense,She does not barter Fish for Pence.Fisher of Men, her Golden NetsFor foolish Sailormen she sets.All day she combs her hair and longsFor Dimpled Feet and Curling-tongs.All night she dreams in ocean cavesOf Low tide Shoes and Marcel Waves.And while the Fishwife, making sales,May sell her wares upon her scales,The Mermaid, wonderful to tell,Must wear her scales upon hersel'.
Although a Fishwife in a sense,She does not barter Fish for Pence.Fisher of Men, her Golden NetsFor foolish Sailormen she sets.All day she combs her hair and longsFor Dimpled Feet and Curling-tongs.All night she dreams in ocean cavesOf Low tide Shoes and Marcel Waves.And while the Fishwife, making sales,May sell her wares upon her scales,The Mermaid, wonderful to tell,Must wear her scales upon hersel'.
The Unicorn 's a first-rate sort.He helps the Lion to supportThe royal arms of England's KingAnd keep the Throne from tottering.I wonder what the King would doIf his supporters all withdrew?Perhaps he'd try the Stage; a ThroneShould be an easy stepping-stoneTo histrionic Heights, and whoKnows till he tries what he can do?The King, with diligence and care,Mightrise to be a Manager.
The Unicorn 's a first-rate sort.He helps the Lion to supportThe royal arms of England's KingAnd keep the Throne from tottering.I wonder what the King would doIf his supporters all withdrew?Perhaps he'd try the Stage; a ThroneShould be an easy stepping-stoneTo histrionic Heights, and whoKnows till he tries what he can do?The King, with diligence and care,Mightrise to be a Manager.
The Satyr lived in times remote,A shape half-human and half-goat,Who, having all Man's faults combinedWith a Goat's nature unrefined,Was not what you would call a brightExample or a shining light.Far be it from me to condoneThe Satyr's sins, yet I must ownI like to think there were a fewYoung Satyrs who to Heaven flew,And when Saint Peter, thunder browed,Seeing them, cried, "No goats allowed!"Although the gate slammed quickly to,Somehow their human halves got through;Whereat the kindly saint relented,And that's how Cherubs were invented.
The Satyr lived in times remote,A shape half-human and half-goat,Who, having all Man's faults combinedWith a Goat's nature unrefined,Was not what you would call a brightExample or a shining light.Far be it from me to condoneThe Satyr's sins, yet I must ownI like to think there were a fewYoung Satyrs who to Heaven flew,And when Saint Peter, thunder browed,Seeing them, cried, "No goats allowed!"Although the gate slammed quickly to,Somehow their human halves got through;Whereat the kindly saint relented,And that's how Cherubs were invented.
The Gargoyle often makes its perchOn a cathedral or a church,Where, mid ecclesiastic style,It smiles an early-Gothic smile.And while the parson, dignified,Spouts at his weary flock inside,The Gargoyle, from its lofty seat,Spouts at the people in the street,And, like the parson, seems to sayTo those beneath him, "Let us spray."I like the Gargoyle best; it playsSo cheerfully on rainy days,While parsons (no one can deny)Are awful dampers—when they're dry.
The Gargoyle often makes its perchOn a cathedral or a church,Where, mid ecclesiastic style,It smiles an early-Gothic smile.And while the parson, dignified,Spouts at his weary flock inside,The Gargoyle, from its lofty seat,Spouts at the people in the street,And, like the parson, seems to sayTo those beneath him, "Let us spray."I like the Gargoyle best; it playsSo cheerfully on rainy days,While parsons (no one can deny)Are awful dampers—when they're dry.
You'd think a lion or a snakeWere quite enough one's nerves to shake;But in this classic beast we findA lion and a snake combined,And, just as if that weren't enough,A goat thrown in to make it tough.Let scientists the breed pooh! pooh!Come with me to some Social ZooAnd hear the bearded Lion bleatGoat-like on patent-kidded feet,Whose "Civil leer and damning praise"The serpent's cloven tongue betrays.Lo! lion, goat, and snake combined!Thus Nature doth repeat her kind.
You'd think a lion or a snakeWere quite enough one's nerves to shake;But in this classic beast we findA lion and a snake combined,And, just as if that weren't enough,A goat thrown in to make it tough.Let scientists the breed pooh! pooh!Come with me to some Social ZooAnd hear the bearded Lion bleatGoat-like on patent-kidded feet,Whose "Civil leer and damning praise"The serpent's cloven tongue betrays.Lo! lion, goat, and snake combined!Thus Nature doth repeat her kind.
The Phœnix was, as you might say,The burning question of his day:The more he burned, the more he grewSplendiferous in feathers new.And from his ashes rising bland,Did business at the same old stand.But though good people went aboutAnd talked, they could not put him out.A wond'rous bird—indeed, they sayHe is not quite extinct to-day.
The Phœnix was, as you might say,The burning question of his day:The more he burned, the more he grewSplendiferous in feathers new.And from his ashes rising bland,Did business at the same old stand.But though good people went aboutAnd talked, they could not put him out.A wond'rous bird—indeed, they sayHe is not quite extinct to-day.
It chanced that Allah, looking round,When he had made his creatures, foundHalf of an Eagle and a pairOf extra Lion legs to spare.So, hating waste, he took some glueAnd made a Gryphon of the two.But when his handiwork he eyed,He frowned—and it was petrified,Doomed for all time to representImpatience on a monument.Sometimes upon our path to-dayIts living counterpart will stray—Columbia's Eagle strutting inAn awf'ly English Lion's skin,With glass in eye and swagg'ring gait:Behold the Gryphon up to date.
It chanced that Allah, looking round,When he had made his creatures, foundHalf of an Eagle and a pairOf extra Lion legs to spare.So, hating waste, he took some glueAnd made a Gryphon of the two.But when his handiwork he eyed,He frowned—and it was petrified,Doomed for all time to representImpatience on a monument.Sometimes upon our path to-dayIts living counterpart will stray—Columbia's Eagle strutting inAn awf'ly English Lion's skin,With glass in eye and swagg'ring gait:Behold the Gryphon up to date.
They certainly contrived to raiseQueer ladies in the olden days.Either the type had not been fixed,Or else Zoology got mixed.I envy not primeval manThis female on the feathered plan.We only have, I'm glad to say,Two kinds of human bird to-day—Women and warriors, who stillWear feathers when dressed up to kill.
They certainly contrived to raiseQueer ladies in the olden days.Either the type had not been fixed,Or else Zoology got mixed.I envy not primeval manThis female on the feathered plan.We only have, I'm glad to say,Two kinds of human bird to-day—Women and warriors, who stillWear feathers when dressed up to kill.
The Centaur led a double life:Two natures in perpetual strifeHe had, that never could agreeOn what the bill-of-fare should be;For when the man-half set his heartOn taking dinnerà la carte,The horse was sure to cast his voteUnswervingly fortable d'OAT.A pretty sort of life to lead;The horse in time went off his feed,The hungry man was nigh demented,When one day—oatmealwas invented!
The Centaur led a double life:Two natures in perpetual strifeHe had, that never could agreeOn what the bill-of-fare should be;For when the man-half set his heartOn taking dinnerà la carte,The horse was sure to cast his voteUnswervingly fortable d'OAT.A pretty sort of life to lead;The horse in time went off his feed,The hungry man was nigh demented,When one day—oatmealwas invented!
The ancients made no end of fussAbout a horse named Pegasus,A famous flyer of his time,Who often soared to heights sublime,When backed by some poetic chapFor the Parnassus Handicap.Alas for fame! The other dayI saw an ancient "one-hoss shay"Stop at the Mont de Piété,And, lo! alighting from the same,A bard, whom I forbear to name.Noting the poor beast's rusty hide(The horse, I mean), methought I spiedWhat once were wings. Incredulous,I cried, "Canthisbe Pegasus!"
The ancients made no end of fussAbout a horse named Pegasus,A famous flyer of his time,Who often soared to heights sublime,When backed by some poetic chapFor the Parnassus Handicap.Alas for fame! The other dayI saw an ancient "one-hoss shay"Stop at the Mont de Piété,And, lo! alighting from the same,A bard, whom I forbear to name.Noting the poor beast's rusty hide(The horse, I mean), methought I spiedWhat once were wings. Incredulous,I cried, "Canthisbe Pegasus!"
The Hydra Hercules defied,Its nine diminished heads must hideBefore the baneful modern beastWho has a thousand heads at least.See how in horrid tiers they rise,With straining ears and bulging eyes,While, blinded by fierce calcium rays,The trembling victim tribute paysOf song or measure, mime or jest,To soothe the savage Hydra's breast.If she please not the monster's whim,Wild scribes will tear her limb from limb;Even if charmed, he rend the airWith hideous joy, let her beware;For she must surely, soon or late,Fall 'neath the hissing Hydra's hate.
The Hydra Hercules defied,Its nine diminished heads must hideBefore the baneful modern beastWho has a thousand heads at least.See how in horrid tiers they rise,With straining ears and bulging eyes,While, blinded by fierce calcium rays,The trembling victim tribute paysOf song or measure, mime or jest,To soothe the savage Hydra's breast.If she please not the monster's whim,Wild scribes will tear her limb from limb;Even if charmed, he rend the airWith hideous joy, let her beware;For she must surely, soon or late,Fall 'neath the hissing Hydra's hate.
Biologists are prone to sniffAt hybrids like the Hyppogriff.In evolution's plan, they say,There is no place for such as they.A horse with wings could not have moreThan two legs, and this beast had four.Well, I for one am glad to waiveTwo of his legs, his wings to save.I'd even sell my auto—ifI had one—for a Hyppogriff.
Biologists are prone to sniffAt hybrids like the Hyppogriff.In evolution's plan, they say,There is no place for such as they.A horse with wings could not have moreThan two legs, and this beast had four.Well, I for one am glad to waiveTwo of his legs, his wings to save.I'd even sell my auto—ifI had one—for a Hyppogriff.
No book of monsters is completeWithout the Minotaur of Crete.Yet should I draw him you would quail,So in his place I draw a veil.O stars, that from Creation's birthHave winked at everything on earth,Who shine where poets fear to tread,Relate the story in my stead!* * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * *Although it's comforting to knowThat Theseus slew him long ago,Weneed not boast, we too could doWith—well, a Theseus or two.
No book of monsters is completeWithout the Minotaur of Crete.Yet should I draw him you would quail,So in his place I draw a veil.O stars, that from Creation's birthHave winked at everything on earth,Who shine where poets fear to tread,Relate the story in my stead!* * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * *Although it's comforting to knowThat Theseus slew him long ago,Weneed not boast, we too could doWith—well, a Theseus or two.