Chapter 21

There was an Old Man of Bohemia, Whose daughter was christened Euphemia, But one day, to his grief, she married a thief, Which grieved that Old Man of Bohemia.

There was an Old Person of Basing, Whose presence of mind was amazing; He purchased a steed, which he rode at full speed And escaped from the people of Basing.

There was an Old Man on a hill, Who seldom if ever stood still; He ran up and down in his Grandmother's gown, Which adorned that Old Man on a hill.

There was an Old Man of Kilkenny, Who never had more than a penny, He spent all that money on onions and honey, That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny.

There was an Old Person of Perth, The stingiest fellow on earth; He fed--oh! 'twas cruel--on seaweed and gruel, This stingy Old Person of Perth.

A dogmatic Old Fellow of Shoreham, Would snub his companions and bore 'em, By flat contradiction, which was an affliction To the friends of this party of Shoreham.

There was an Old Person of Ischia, Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier; He danced hornpipes and jigs, and ate thousands of figs, That lively Old Person of Ischia.

There was an Old Person of Hurst, Who drank when he was not athirst; When they said, "You'll grow fatter!" he answered, "What matter?" That globular Person of Hurst.

[Page 103--Old Men Tales]

The Diverting History Of John Gilpin

John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-bound Captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though we have wedded been, These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen.

To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we then will repair Unto the "Bell" at Edmonton, All in a chaise and pair, My sister and my sister's child, Myself and children three, Will fill the chaise, so you must ride On horse-back after we.

He soon replied--I do admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done, I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know, And my good friend the Calender, Will lend his horse to go.

Quoth Mrs Gilpin--That's well said; And for that wind is dear, We will be furnished with our own, Which is both bright and clear; John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife, O'erjoyed was he to find That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought, And yet was not allow'd To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud; So three doors off the post was stayed, Where they did all get in, Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folks so glad, The stones did rattle underneath As if Cheapside were mad; John Gilpin at his horse's side Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got in haste to ride, But soon came down again.

For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in; So down he came--for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.

'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty, screaming, came down the stairs, "The wine is left behind." Good lack! quoth he, yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword When I do exercise.

Now, Mistress Gilpin, careful soul, Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she loved, And keep it safe and sound, Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true.

Then over all, that he might be Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw, Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones With caution and good heed.

But, finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat, So, "Fair and softly," John, he cried, But John, he cried in vain; That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein.

So, stooping down, as needs he must, Who cannot sit upright, He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might, His horse, who never in that sort, Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought, Away went hat and wig, He little dreamt when he set out Of running such a rig; The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away.

Then might people well discern The bottles he had slung, A bottle swinging at each side, As had been said or sung, The dogs did bark, the children scream'd, Up flew the windows all, And ev'ry soul cried out, Well done! As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin--who but he, His fame soon spread around-- He carries weight, he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound! And still as fast as he drew near, 'Twas wonderful to view How in a trice the turnpike men Their gates wide open flew.

And now as he went bowing down His reeking head full low, The bottles twain behind his back Were shatter'd at a blow; Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horses flanks to smoke, As they had basted been.

But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced, For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist; Thus all through merry Islington These gambols did he play, And till he came into the Wash Of Edmonton so gay.

And there he threw the wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wond'ring much To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop, John Gilpin!--Here's the house-- They all at once did cry, The dinner waits, and we are tired-- Said Gilpin--So am I; But yet this horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there-- For why? His owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So, like an arrow, swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong; So did he fly--which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin, out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the Calender's His horse at last stood still.

The Calender, amazed to see His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, And thus accosted him:-- What news? what news? your tidings tell! Tell me you must and shall-- Say why bare-headed you are come, Or why you come at all?

Now, Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And loved a timely joke, And thus unto the Calender, In merry guise he spoke-- I came because your horse would come, And if I well forbode, My hat and wig will soon be here, They are upon the road.

The Calender, right glad to find His friend in merry pin, Return'd him not a single word, But to the house went in. When straight he came with hat and wig-- A wig that flow'd behind; A hat not much the worse of wear-- Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in its turn Thus showed his ready wit-- My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face, And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case.

Said John, It is my wedding-day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware. So, turning to his horse, he said-- I am in haste to dine, 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.

Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast, For which he paid full dear; For while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear, Whereat his horse did snort as he Had heard a lion's roar, And gallop'd off with all his might, As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig; He lost them sooner than the first, For why? they were too big. Now, Mistress Gilpin when she saw Her husband posting down Into the country, far away, She pulled out half-a-crown.

And thus unto the youth she said That drove them to the "Bell"-- This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well; The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back again, Whom in a trice, he tried to stop By catching at his rein.

But, not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frightened steed he frightened more, And made him faster run; Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels-- The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road, Thus seeing Gilpin fly, With post-boy scamp'ring in the rear, They raised the hue and cry:-- Stop thief! stop thief!--a highwayman! An all and each that pass'd the way Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space-- The toll-men thinking as before, That Gilpin rode a race; And so he did, and won it, too, For he got first to town: Nor stopp'd till, where he had got up, He did again get down,

Now let us sing: Long live the king, And Gilpin, long live he; And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see.

[Page 104--Song Of The Book Arcade]

Books teach the children of men in many million schools; Books make the difference between earth's learned and its fools.

Song Of The Book Arcade

Cole's Book Arcade, Cole's Book Arcade It is in Melbourne town, Of all the book stores in the land It has the most renown,

It was the first, first Book Arcade That in the world was found; It's still the finest Book Arcade In all the world around.

A lovely rainbow sign appears Above the Book Arcade And 'tis the very grandest sign Was ever yet displayed.

Full forty thousand sorts of books Are stored within its walls, Which can be seen, looked at or bought, By anyone that calls.

The book you wish, the book you want, Is almost sure to be Found somewhere in the Book Arcade, If you will call and see.

(Our Australian Choir has Cockatoos, Laughing Jackasses, Native Bears, Platypusses, Black Swans, Emus, Magpies, Opossums, and Lyre Birds, also a BUNYIP to sing deep bass, all the other Animals in the World sing the chorus, each in his natural voice. The tune is "MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB.")

Value Of Books

BOOKS should be found in every house To form and feed the mind; They are the best of luxuries 'Tis possible to find.

For all the books in all the world Are man's greatest treasure; They make him wish, and bring to him His best, his choicest pleasure.

BOOKS make his time pass happily Through many weary hours; Amuse, compose, instruct his mind, Enlarge his mental powers.

BOOKS give to him the history Of each and every land; BOOKS show him human action's past-- The bad, the good, the grand.

BOOKS show him arts, laws, learnings, faiths Of every time and place; BOOKS show him how each thing is made Used by the human race.

[Page 105--Value Of Books]

BOOKS give to him descriptions of The world in which we live, Of the universe around us, And better still they give.

BOOKS give to him the greatest thoughts Of all the good and wise; BOOKS treasure human knowledge up, And so it never dies.

BOOKS show him all that men have done, What they have thought and said; BOOKS show the deeds and wisdom of The living and the dead.

BOOKS show him all the hopes and fears Of every race and clan; BOOKS clearly prove beyond a doubt The brotherhood of man.

BOOKS give him hopes beyond the grave Of an immortal life; BOOKS teach that right and truth and love Shall banish every strife.

BOOKS teach and please him when a child In youth and in his prime; BOOKS give him soothing pleasure when His health and strength decline.

BOOKS please him in his lonely hours, Wherever he may roam: BOOKS please when read aloud among His loving friends at home.

BOOKS like _strong drink_ will drown his cares, But do not waste his wealth; BOOKS leave him _better_, drink the _worse_, In character and health.

BOOKS therefore, are, of all man buys, The choicest thing on earth, BOOKS have, of all his household goods, The most intrinsic worth.

BOOKS are the greatest blessing out, The grandest thing we sell, BOOKS bring more joy, BOOKS do more good Than mortal tongue can tell.

E. W. Cole

[Page 106--Old Woman Tales]

The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children--such naughty ones too! She cried, "Oh, dear me, I don't know what to do, Who would be an old woman and live in a shoe?"

Once ninety little fellows sat down on the floor And lustily screamed, "We won't cry any more!" "Then stop crying now," the old woman said, "The noise you are making goes right through my head."

"Then she gave the boys broth without any bread, And whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed. She scolded the girls, and said, "Don't make a noise, Or you shall be served just the same as the boys."

[Page 107--Old Woman Tales]

Mother Goose

Old Mother Goose, when She wanted to wander, Would ride through the air On a very fine gander.

Mother Goose had a house, 'Twas built of wood, Where an owl at the door For sentinel stood.

She had a son Jack, A plain-looking lad, He was not very good, Nor yet very bad.

She sent him to market; A live goose he bought; Here, mother, says he, It will not go for nought.

Jack's goose and her gander They grew very fond; They'd both eat together, Or swim in one pond.

Jack found one morning, As I have been told, His goose had laid him An egg of pure gold.

Jack rode to his mother, The news for to tell, She call'd him a good boy, And said it was well.

Hack sold his gold egg To a rogue of a Jew, Who cheated him out of The half of his due.

Then Jack went a-courting A lady so gay, As fair as the lily, And sweet as the May.

The Jew and the Squire Came behind his back, And began to belabour The sides of poor Jack.

Then old Mother Goose That instant came in, And turned her son Jack Into fam'd Harlequin.

She then with her wand Touch'd the lady so fine, And turn'd her at once Into sweet Columbine.

The gold egg in the sea Was quickly thrown, when Jack gave a quick dive, And soon got it again.

The Jew got the goose, Which he vow'd he would kill, Resolving at once His pockets to fill.

Jack's mother came in, And caught the goose soon, And mounting its back, Flew up to the moon.

Old Woman under a Hill

There was an old woman lived under a hill, Put a mouse in a bag, and sent it to mill; The Miller declar'd by the point of his knife, He ne'er saw such a big mouse in his life.

Old Woman under a Hill

There was an old woman lived under a hill; And if she's not gone, she lives there still.

Old Woman and Three Sons

There was an old woman had three sons; Jerry, and James, and John. Jerry was hung, James was drowned; John was lost, and never was found; And there was an end of the three sons, Jerry, and James, and John.

Old Woman who Lived in a Shell

A little old woman, as I've heard tell, Lived near the sea, in a nice little shell; She was well off, if she wanted her tea-- She'd plenty of water from out of the sea.

Then if for her dinner she had the least wish, Of course she had nothing to do but to fish; So, really, this little old woman did well, As she didn't pay any rent for the use of the shell.

Old Woman Swallowed

There was an old woman called Nothing-at-all, Who rejoiced in a dwelling exceedingly small; A man stretched his mouth to its utmost extent, And down at one gulp house and old woman went.

Old Woman's Calf

There was an old woman sat spinning, And that's the first beginning; She had a calf, and that's half; She took it by the tail, And threw it over the wall, and that's all.

Old Woman Drowned

There was an old woman, her name it was Peg; Her head was of wood, and she wore a cork-leg. The neighbours all pitched her into the water, Her leg was drown'd first, and her head followed a'ter.

Old Woman of Stepney

At Stepney there lived, As every one knows, An old woman who had A plum tree on her nose!

The boys, while she slept, Would cautiously take The plums from her tree Before she could wake.

This old woman went One day to the lawn Of my Lord Cockagee, And there saw a fawn.

Having shot him, she tied His hind legs to her tree, And so quitted the lawn Of my Lord Cockagee.

She'd nearly reached home, When the constable came, And put her in prison For killing the game.

While locked in her cell, She thought again and again Of how to escape, But kept thinking in vain.

She considered each plan, Till she found out a way Of escaping the prison In the course of the day.

She cut the plum tree close off from her nose, And made a scarecrow, Dress'd up in her clothes;

This she set on a stool, With it's back to the wall, And watch'd near the door For fear it would fall.

Soon the jailor came in With her water and bread; He stared at the figure, While from prison she fled.

The old woman reached home, Singing diddle-dee-dee; And again on her nose There grew a plum tree.

[Page 108--Old Woman Tales]

Funny Old Women

There was an old person of Smyrna, Whose Granny once threatened to burn her; But she seized on the cat, And said "Granny, burn that! You incongruous old woman of Smyrna!"

There was an old lady of Bute, Who played on a silver-gilt flute; She played several jigs To her Uncle's white pigs, That amusing old lady of Bute.

There was an old lady of Ryde, Whose shoe-strings were seldom untied, She purchased some clogs, And some small spotted dogs, And frequently walked about Ryde.

There was an old lady of Parma, Whose conduct grew calmer and calmer, When they said "Are you dumb?" She merely said "Hum!" That provoking old lady of Parma.

There was an old lady of Troy, Whom several large flies did annoy; Some she killed with a thump, Some she drowned at the pump, And some she took with her to Troy.

There was an old person of Crete, Whose toilet was far from complete, She dressed in a sack Spickle-speckled with black, That ombliferous old person of Crete.

There was an old lady of Wales, Who caught a large fish without scales; When she lifted her hook, She exclaimed "Only look!" That ecstatic old lady of Wales.

There was an old lady of Clare, Who was sadly pursued by a bear; When she found she was tired, She abruptly expired, That unfortunate lady of Clare.

There was an old lady of Dorking, Who bought a large bonnet for walking; But it's colour and size, So bedazzled her eyes, That she very soon went back to Dorking.

There was an old lady of Russia, Who screamed so that no one could hush her; Her screams were extreme, No one heard such a scream, As was screamed by that lady of Russia.

There was an old lady of Norway, Who casually sat in a doorway; When the door squeezed her flat, She exclaimed, "What of that?" That courageous old lady of Norway.

There was an old lady of Chertsey, Who made a remarkable curtsey; She twirled round and round, Till she sank underground, Which distressed all the people of Chertsey.

There was an old woman of Anerley, Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly. She rushed down the Strand, With a pig in each hand, But returning in the evening to Anerley.

There was an old lady of Welling, Whose praise all the world was a-telling; She played on the harp, And caught several carp, That accomplished old lady of Welling.

There was an old lady of Turkey, Who wept when the weather was murky; When the day turned out fine, She ceased to repine, That capricious old lady of Turkey.

Old Woman who went up in a Basket

There was an old woman went up in a basket, Ninety-nine times as high as the moon; What she did there I could not but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom.

"Old woman, old woman, old woman," quoth I, "O whither, O whither, O whither, so high?" "To sweep the cobwebs off the sky,-- And I shall be back again by and by!"

There was an old woman of Prague, Whose ideas were horribly vague, She built a balloon, To examine the moon, That deluded old woman of Prague.

There was an old woman of Hull, Who was chased by a virulent bull; But she seized on a spade, And called out "Who's afraid?" Which distracted that virulent bull.

There was an old lady of Poole, Whose soup was excessively cool; So she put it to boil, By the aid of some oil, That ingenious old lady of Poole.

There was an old lady of Burton, Whose answers were rather uncertain; When they said "How d'ye do?" She replied "Who are you?" That distressing old person of Burton.

There was an old lady of Lucca, Whose lovers completely forsook her; She ran up a tree, And said "Fiddle-de-dee!" Which embarrassed the people of Lucca.

There was an old woman of Norwich, Who lived on nothing but porridge; Parading the town, She turned cloak into gown, That thrifty old woman of Norwich.

There was an old woman of Leeds, Who spent all her time in good deeds; She worked for the poor, Till her fingers were sore, That pious old woman of Leeds.

There was an old woman in Surrey, Who was morn, noon, and night in a hurry; Called her husband a fool, Drove the children to school, That worrying old woman in Surrey.

There was an old lady whose bonnet Came untied when the birds sat upon it; But she said "I don't care! All the birds in the air Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!"

There was an old lady whose nose Was so long that it reached to her toes; So she hired an old lady, Whose conduct was steady, To carry that wonderful nose.

There was an old lady whose chin Resembled the point of a pin; So she had it made sharp, And purchased a harp, On which to play tunes with her chin.

There was an old lady whose eyes, Were unique as to colour and size; When she opened them wide, People all turned aside, And started away in surprise.

There was a young lady of Hexham, Contradicted her friends just to vex 'em; She talked about horses, And rode on racecourses, This forward young lady of Hexham.

[Page 109--Strange History of Twenty-Six Funny Women]

Strange History of Twenty-Six Funny Women

Angelina Armstrong Abruptly Asked an Advertising Agent About an Alliterating Advertisement Appearing, Announcing An Astonishing, Admirable, Attractive, Agreeable, Artistic, And Advanced Australian Arcade. Meaning Cole's Book Arcade.