Part 7

The song birds are the sweetest, In Kentucky; The thoroughbreds are fleetest, In Kentucky; Mountains tower proudest, Thunder peals the loudest, The landscape is the grandest, And politics—the damnedest, In Kentucky.

—_By James H. Mulligan._

* * * * *

A TIME IN THE KITCHEN.

The fork said the corkscrew was crooked; The remark made the flatiron sad; The steel knife at once lost its temper, And called the tea-holder a cad. The teaspoon stood on its metal; The kettle exhibited bile; The stove grew hot at the discussion, But the ice remained cool all the while.

The way that the cabbage and lettuce Kept their heads was something sublime; The greens dared the soup to mix with them, And the latter, while it hadn’t much thyme, Got so mad it boiled over—the fire Felt put out and started to cry; The oven then roasted the turkey And the cook gave the grease spot the lye.

The plate said the clock in the corner Transacted its business on tick. And the plate, which for years had been battered, The clock said was full of old nick. The salt said the cream should be whipped, The cinnamon laughed—in a rage The cream said the salt was too fresh, And its friend wasn’t thought to be sage.

You’d not think a thing that’s so holey As the sieve would have mixed in the fuss, But it did, for it said that the butter Was a slippery sort of a cuss; No one knows how the row would have ended, Had not the cook, Maggie O’Dowd, (Her work being done) closed the kitchen, And thusly shut up the whole crowd.

* * * * *

JUST NONSENSE.

It was midnight on the ocean Not a street car was in sight The sun was shining brightly And it rained all day that night.

It was a summer day in winter The rain was snowing fast A barefoot girl with shoes on Stood sitting on the grass.

It was evening and the rising sun Was setting in the west The little fishes in the trees Were cuddled in their nests.

The rain was pouring down The moon was shining bright And everything that you could see Was hidden from your sight.

While the organ peeled potatoes Lard was rendered by the choir While the sexton rang the dish rag Some one set the church on fire.

“Holy Smokes” the preacher shouted In the rain he lost his hair Now his head resembles heaven For there is no parting there.

* * * * *

This is the story of Johnny McGuire, Who ran through the town with his trousers on fire; He went to the doctor’s and fainted with fright When the doctor told him his end was in sight.

* * * * *

8 2 MUCH.

I often sit and medit8 Upon the scurvy trick of f8 That keeps me still a celib8. I want a 10der maid sed8 To love and be my m8. My 40-2de is not so gr8 I cannot w8.

* * * * *

ANTHEM FOR A HAS-BEEN.

My Auto ’tis of Thee Short cut to poverty Of Thee I chant. I blew a pile of dough On you three years ago Now you refuse to go Or won’t or can’t.

Through town and country side I drove thee full of pride No charm you lacked. I loved your gaudy hue Your tires so round and new Now I feel mighty blue The way you act.

To thee old rattle box Came many bumps and knocks For thee I grieve. Badly thy top is torn Frayed are thy seats and worn The croup affects thy horn I do believe.

Thy perfume swells the breeze While good folks choke and sneeze As we pass by. I paid for thee a price Would buy a mansion twice Now every one yells “Ice” I wonder why.

Thy motor has the grip Thy spark plug has the pip And woe is thine. I too have suffered chills Fatigue and kindred ills Trying to pay the bills Since thou wert mine.

Gone is my bank roll now No more ’twould choke a cow As once before. Yet if I had the yen So help me John “Amen” I’d buy a car again And speed some more.

* * * * *

The lightning bug is brilliant, But he hasn’t any mind; It wanders through creation With its headlight on behind.

* * * * *

Tobacco is a dirty weed— I like it. It satisfies no moral need— I like it. It makes you fat, it makes you lean, It takes the hair right off your bean, It’s the worst darn stuff I’ve ever seen— I like it.

* * * * *

Little Willie in the best of pink sashes, Fell in the fire and got burned to ashes. Bye and bye the room grew chilly, But nobody wanted to poke up Willie.

* * * * *

Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder. She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder, Called from this world, to her heavenly rest, She should have waited till it effervesced.

* * * * *

IF I SHOULD DIE TONIGHT.

If I should die to-night And you should come to my cold corpse and kneel Clasping my bier to show the grief you feel, I say, if I should die to-night And you should come to me and there and then Just even hint about paying me that ten I might arise the while But I’d drop dead again.

Twice, thought I, the coin to send, My one indebtedness to end. But since I’ve learned a shock so great A prompt remittance would create, I do not like to pay you quite For fear that you might die of fright— So wait.

_Limericks_

Now what is a Limerick pray? I beg of you poet to say. Conversation like this Is a Limerick, miss, But it doesn’t occur every day.

* * * * *

Said a husband, You think I’m a St. I will fool you a bit, for I at. Now please take a look, Watch me wink at the cook! * * * * * No, the black ’round his eye isn’t pt.

* * * * *

A young thing named Katherine Parr Was crazy to be a screen star, But she snubbed her director When he tried to correct her, So Kate didn’t get very far.

* * * * *

There once was an old man of Lyme Who married three wives at a time; When asked, Why a third? He replied, One’s absurd! And bigamy sir, is a crime!

* * * * *

There once was a person of Benin Who wore clothes not fit to be seen in; When told that he shouldn’t He replied, Gumscrumrudent! A word of inscrutable meanin’!

* * * * *

There was a gay damsel of Lynn, Whose waist was so charmingly thin, The dressmaker needed A microscope—she did— To fit this slim person of Lynn.

* * * * *

There was a young lady named Anna, Who sang in the choir soprano. The tenor said, There! As she mounted the stair, I’ve both seen and heard your Hose, Anna!

* * * * *

There was an old man in a tree Who was horribly bored by a bee, When they said, Does it buzz? He replied, Yes it does, It’s a regular brute of a bee!

* * * * *

Unless I’ve a new gown, said she, I really can’t go to the tea. I’ve nothing to wear, My back is quite bare. You’re right in the style, then, said he.

* * * * *

A proud young rooster named Gawk, Was taking his flock for a walk; An auto whizzed by But Gawk wouldn’t fly, And so naught was left but the squawk.

* * * * *

Belinda was building the fire, She knew the results might be dire, But to shorten her toil She poured on some oil— And speedily winged her way higher.

* * * * *

There was a young dude from the city Who tho’t he espied a nice kitty, Her back he did pat, Saying, good Kitty Cat— They buried his clothes—what a pity!

* * * * *

There was a young man at St. Kitts Who was very much troubled with fits. The eclipse of the moon Threw him into a swoon, When he tumbled and broke into bits.

* * * * *

There was a young lady, quite rich, Who heard funny noises, at which She took off her hat And found that her rat Had fallen asleep at the switch.

* * * * *

There once was a girl of New York Whose body was lighter than cork She had to be fed For six weeks upon lead, Before she went out for a walk.

* * * * *

There once was a man with a beard Who said, It is just as I feared! Two owls and a hen, Four larks and a wren Have all built their nests in my beard!

* * * * *

There once was an amorous Mr. Who on meeting a girl always Kr. But one night at the gate He learned when too late He’d been kissing the coachman’s black Sr.

* * * * *

They had cut off a Chinaman’s queue, And were painting his head a bright blueue; So the Chinaman said As they daubed at his head; When I sueue yueue, yueue’ll rueue what yueue dueue.

* * * * *

There was a Princess of Bengal Whose mouth was exceedingly small; She said, It would be More easy for me To do without eating at all!

* * * * *

A right-handed writer named Wright, In writing “write” always wrote “rite.” He meant to write “write,” But he couldn’t write right— Who started this darn thing, anyway?

* * * * *

There was a young lady of Boston Whose manner had such a deep frost on. She invariably froze Every one of her beaux When her high plane of thought they got lost on.

* * * * *

When you turn down your glass it’s a sign That you’re not going to take any wign, So turn down your plate When they serve things you hate And you’ll be asked out often to dign.

* * * * *

There was an old person of Ware Who rode on the back of a bear. When they said, Does it trot? He said, Certainly not, It’s a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear.

* * * * *

Nan’s father, who lived in Nantucket, Kept all of his cash in a bucket. But one day Miss Nan Eloped with a man, And as for the cash, why Nan tuck it!

* * * * *

There was an old man who said, Hush, I perceive a young bird in this bush! When they said, Is it small? He replied, Not at all, It is four times as big as the bush!

* * * * *

Every fighter in khaki or blue Has a job he simply must do— He must stand by the flag, He must fight the red rag, The Legion will see the job through!

* * * * *

There was a cowpuncher in Butte Who immediately started to shutte, When a girl who was brave Said, Your pants need a shave, Otherwise you look awfully cutte!

* * * * *

A cowboy with nothing to dioux Just for practice tried roping poor Lioux, It was excellent sport But Siouxn after in court He was siouxed for lassiouxing a Sioux!

* * * * *

A broken down tenor named Squires Wrote thus to a half hundred choirs; Have you place I could fill? They replied “No,” but still He inquires in choirs in quires.

* * * * *

There was a young lady named Jane Who said to herself, I’m too plain. I’m tired of duty, Now I’ll seek beauty, And beat Father Time at his game.

* * * * *

There was a dear lady of Eden Who on apples was quite fond of feedin’. She gave one to Adam Who said, Thank you madam, And then both skedaddled from Eden.

* * * * *

Said the stuttering baritone Gantz When asked by the chorister Rantz, If it was his desire To sing in the choir, I’d j-j-j-jump at the chants!

* * * * *

A lady as proud as old Lucifer Is tired of her husband’s abucifer. She says she will see If she ever gets free Love doesn’t again make a gucifer.

* * * * *

When Adam in bliss Asked Eve for a kiss, She puckered her lips with a coo, Gave look so ecstatic, And answered emphatic, I don’t care A-dam if I do.

* * * * *

She frowned on him and called him Mr. Because in fun he’d merely Kr. And then for spite The foll’wing nite This naughty Mr. Kr. Sr.

* * * * *

There was a young lady named Stella, Whose beau was a bow-legged fella. When he asked her to sit In his lap, why she lit On his soft corn, then how he did bella.

* * * * *

Professor M’Dome of Saint Clair In five hours tracked a bear to his lair. Mr. Bear was at home And Professor M’Dome Spent five minutes returning from there.

* * * * *

I am so poor I can’t insure, He said, then died—(damnation!) His widow sighed, Became a bride And thus escaped starvation.

* * * * *

For beauty I am not a star, There are others more handsome by far. By my face I don’t mind it, For I am behind it, It’s the people in front that I jar.

* * * * *

Dickery Dickery Doc, With patients lined up a block With fits and conniptions They wait for prescriptions Liquor me, liquor me, Doc.

* * * * *

Any girl can be gay In a classy coupe, In a taxi they all can be jolly But the girl worth while Is the girl who can smile When you’re bringing her home on the trolley.

* * * * *

A sporty old chink named Wun Won Sat up playing fan tan for mon, At two he’d lost ten But he stuck to it—then Wun Won won one-one at 1:01.

* * * * *

There once was a maiden of Siam Who said to her lover, young Kiam, If you kiss me, of course You will have to use force, But I’ll wager you’re stronger than I am.