Carolyn Wells
The Jingle Book
A Serious Question
Two Old Kings
A Day Dream
Our Club
We’re going to have the mostest fun!It’s going to be a club;And no one can belong to itBut Dot and me and Bub.Puzzled
There lived in ancient Scribbletown a wise old writer-man,Whose name was Homer Cicero Demosthenes McCann.He’d written treatises and themes till, “For a change,” he said,“I think I’ll write a children’s book before I go to bed.”An Intercepted Valentine
A Long-Felt Want
The Musical Carp
The Intelligent Hen
The Happy Hyena
A Great Lady
Opulent Ollie
One Saturday opulent OllieThought he’d go for a ride on the trolley;But his pennies were few,—He only had two,—So he went and made mud-pies with Polly.The Two Bears
Prince Curlilocks remarked one dayTo Princess Dimplecheek,“I haven’t had a real good playFor more than ’most a week.”Said Princess Dimplecheek, “My dear,Your majesty forgets—This morning we played grenadierWith grandpa’s epaulets.“And yesterday we sailed to Spain—We both were pirates bold,And braved the wild and raging mainTo seek for hidden gold.”“True,” said the prince; “I mind me well—Right hardily we fought,And stormed a massive citadelTo gain the prize we sought.“But if your ladyship agrees,Methinks we’ll go upstairsAnd build a waste of arctic seas,And we’ll be polar bears.”“Yes, if you’ll promise not to bite,”Fair Dimplecheek replied,Already half-way up the flight,His highness by her side.“Princess, on that far window-seat,Go, sit thee down and wait,While I ask nursie for a sheet,Or maybe six or eight.”A pile of sheets his highness brought.“Dear princess, pray take these;Although our path with danger’s fraught,We’ll reach the polar seas.”Two furry rugs his lordship bore,Two pairs of mittens white;He threw them on the nursery floorAnd shouted with delight.He spread those sheets—the funny boy—O’er table, floor, and chair.“Princess,” said he, “don’t you enjoyThis frosty, bracing air?“These snowy sheets are fields of ice,This is an iceberg grim.”“Yes, dear, I think it’s very nice,”She said, and smiled at him.And then they donned the rugs of fur,The mittens, too, they wore;And Curlilocks remarked to her,“Now you must roar and roar.”The Very Merry Voyage of the Macaroni Man
This figure here before you is a Macaroni Man,Who is built, as you may notice, on a most ingenious plan.His skeleton, I beg to state, is made of hairpins three,Which are bent and curved and twisted to a marvellous degree.His coat-sleeves and his trouser-legs, his head and eke his waistAre made of superfine imported macaroni paste.And if you care to listen, you may hear the thrilling taleOf the merry Macaroni Man’s extraordinary sail.One sunny day he started for a voyage in his yacht,His anxious mother called to him, and said, “You’d better not!Although the sun is shining bright, I fear that it may rain;And don’t you think, my darling boy, you’d better take the train?”“Oh, no,” said he, “no clouds I see,—the sky is blue and clear,I will return in time for tea—good-by, my mother dear.”The 4.04 Train
“There’s a train at 4.04,” said Miss Jenny;“Four tickets I’ll take. Have you any?”Said the man at the door:“Not four for 4.04,For four for 4.04 is too many.”A Valuable Gift
The Grandiloquent Goat
How the Cat was Belled
A fable told by La Fontaine,Two centuries or more ago,Describes some rats who would arraignA cat, their direst foe,Who killed so many ratsAnd caused the deepest woe,This Catiline of cats.The poor rats were at their wits’ endTheir homes and families to defend;And as a last resortThey took the case to court.It seems they called a caucus wiseOf rats of every age and size,And then their dean,With sapient mien,A very Solon of a rat,Said it was best to bell the cat.The quaint old tale goes on to tellHow this plan would have worked quite well,But, somehow, flawsAppeared, becauseNo one would hang the bell.Though there the ancient fable ends,Later report the tale extends,No longer is the truth withheld;Developments appear,And so you have it here.For the first timeSet down in rhymeJust how that cat was belled.The council, as ’twas getting late,Was just about to separate,When suddenly a rat aroseWho said he could a plan proposeWhich would, he thought, succeedAnd meet their urgent need.Now as this rat was very small,And had no dignity at all,Although his plan was well advised,We really need not be surprisedThat all the rats of riper yearsExpressed the gravest doubts and fears;Till suddenlyHe said, said he,“If you will leave it all to me,I will avowThree days from nowThat you shall all be free.”The solemn council then adjourned.Each rat to home and fireside turned;But each shook his wise headAnd to his neighbor said:“It is a dangerous job, in truth,Though it seems naught to headstrong youth.”Now young Sir Rat we next behold,With manner brave and visage bold,Go marching downTo London town,Where wondrous things are sold.We see him stopAt a large shop,And with the bland clerk’s courteous aidThis 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 brightTo 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 Rhyme of Triangular Tommy
A Modern Invention
Old Santa Claus is up-to-date,And hereafter, rumors say,He’ll come with his pack of glittering toys,And visit the homes of girls and boys,In a new reindeerless sleigh.An April Joke