c 
 
 TheF&Ary 
 Godmother 
 -in-laujf A 
 
 OliverHerford 
 
/ 
 
 JMUHi 
 
 •t 
 
THE FAIRY 
 GODMOTHER-IN-LAW 
 
BOOKS BY OLIVER HERFORD 
 
 WITH PICTURES BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 THE BASHFUL EARTHQUAKE . . . . $1.25 
 
 A CHILD'S PRIMER OF NATURAL HIS- 
 TORY $1.25 
 
 OVERHEARD IN A GARDEN $1.25 
 
 MORE ANIMALS net, $1.00 
 
 THE RUBAIYAT OF A PERSIAN KIT- 
 TEN net, $1.00 
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER-IN-LAW net, $1.00 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fairygodmotherinOOherf 
 
The Fairy 
 Godmother-in-Law 
 
 Oliver Her ford 
 
 With Some Pictures 
 "By the cAuthor 
 
 New York • Published by 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 
Copyright, 1903, by 
 OLIVER HERFORD 
 
 Published, November, 1905 
 
 THE TROW PRESS . NEW YORK 
 
To M. H, 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Fairy Godmother-in-law . . i 
 The Charm that Failed . . -31 
 The Silver Question . . . .41 
 How the Lion Became King . . 47 
 The Wakeful Princess .... 55 
 A Modern Dialogue .... 65 
 
 The Heart of Ice 71 
 
 The Judgment of Bishop Valentine . 75 
 
 The Bachelor Girl 78 
 
 Mephisto 80 
 
 A Corner in Curls 83 
 
 The Hydrant-Headed Monster . . 93 
 To My Toy Canary .... 95 
 The Hand of Time . . . . .101 
 Envoi . 103 
 
THE FAIRY 
 GODMOTHER-IN-LAW 
 
PREFACE 
 
 It is not always well to place 
 
 Unbounded Faith in Fairy Lore, 
 
 Believing that in every case 
 
 They all lived Happy evermore. 
 
 Stranger than Fiction though we deem 
 The Truth, it does not follow, too. 
 
 That Fairy Tales, because they seem 
 Still Stranger, must be still more True. 
 
 Far be it from me to assail 
 
 The Truthfulness of Fairy Writ, 
 
 But let us take a Weil-Known Tale 
 And see what really came of it. 
 
I 
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 When Cinderella wed the Prince 
 
 She thought him all her Fancy Painted, 
 
 And this was not surprising since 
 
 They were not very Well Acquainted. 
 
 While he, not dreaming where she got 
 
 Glass slippers, counted on a Dot, 
 
 The Prince was Brave, Industrious, Wise: 
 Brave in bright Silks and Satins gay, 
 
 Wise in the Lore of Ladies' Eyes, 
 And most Industrious— at Play ; 
 
 A Leader, too — in Fashion's Set ; 
 
 And Deep — that is to say, in Debt. 
 4 
 
Who was the Somebody of Note P 
 (I never could remember names) 
 
 Was it Mark Twain or Mr. Choate 
 Or Mrs. Ward or Henry James 
 
 That penn'd those words of Wise Import, 
 
 "Who weds in haste repents — in court"? 
 
 But let us not Anticipate. 
 
 The Princess wore a Plain Gold Frock ; 
 No Fairy Dress to spoil the fete 
 
 By vanishing at Twelve o'clock. 
 This time no Spell her pleasure blighted — 
 Her god-mamma was not invited. 
 
Not that she really meant to flout 
 Her Benefactress ; but you see 
 
 She had not told the Prince about 
 Her Fairy Godmother, lest he 
 
 Might change his mind if he foresaw 
 
 A Fairy God-mamma-in-law. 
 
 A Fairy may be Good or 111, 
 A Godmother Morose or Gay ; 
 
 A Mother-in-law, say what you will, 
 Is not immortal any way. 
 
 But wouldn't it a Bridegroom stun 
 
 To think of all three rolled in one ? 
 
II 
 
 THE LETTER 
 
 All day the envelope she scann'd. 
 
 But though her royal name it bore, 
 'Twas in an Unfamiliar Hand. 
 
 The Postmark puzzled her still more. 
 The Princess could not understand 
 Who'd write to her from- 
 
 She turned it Left, she turned it Right, 
 She pinched it, shook it too and fro, 
 
 She held it up against the Light, 
 And topsy-turvy wise — but no, 
 
 It still continued to preserve 
 
 Its air of Self-contained Reserve. 
 
 9 
 

 
 One day the Princess in a Pet, 
 It was her Last, her only hope, 
 
 Summoned her Trusty Cabinet, 
 To Sit upon the Envelope, 
 
 And at no matter what expense, 
 
 To end her Terrible Suspense. 
 
 But all their Learned Consultations 
 Ended in Nought, for what avail 
 
 Mere Mans Unerring Calculations 
 
 Where WOMAN'S Intuitions fail? 
 
 Their Weighty Brains refused to cope 
 
 With that Unyielding Envelope. 
 
She put the matter in the Hands 
 Of the Police; she went to see 
 
 Astrologers from Foreign Lands 
 And experts in Chirography; 
 
 And offered Large Rewards to all 
 
 Who furnished Clues, however small. 
 
 But no one came for the Reward, 
 Nor would the Envelope betray 
 
 The Secret in its bosom stored, 
 
 When by the Merest Chance one day 
 
 She overheard a Child, who cried, 
 
 " If it were mine, Fd look inside F 
 
 II 
 
Tossing the Tot a Thousand Pounds, 
 The Princess to her Chamber sped ; 
 
 Her Joy and Rapture knew no bounds; 
 She tore the Envelope and read 
 
 A note from god-mamma, to say, 
 She might expect her any day. 
 
 12 
 
Ill 
 
 THE VISIT 
 
 One day as Cinderella ate 
 
 Her Simple Lunch of sixteen courses, 
 A Golden Coach drove up in state, 
 
 Drawn by a team of Mouse-Grey 
 horses, 
 And on the carriage door were scrolled 
 The Letters F. G. M., in gold 
 
 The Princess dropped a Jelly Roll, 
 
 Which tipped with Pink her Crystal 
 Shoe, 
 
 And cried, " O my prophetic soul ! 
 
 My G^-mamma! What shall I do?" 
 
 Then, Ladylike, she cut the knot 
 
 By simply fainting on the spot. 
 
 13 
 
Strong Fairy Salts soon brought her to. 
 
 She looked up in a startled way. 
 " Why, God-mamma — can that be you ? 
 
 How sweet ! I hope you've come to stay. 
 The Prince will simply be enchanted.' 
 "Your Wish," quoth God-mamma, "is 
 granted." 
 
 14 
 
True to her word, the Fairy soon 
 
 Was quite at home. The royal Attic 
 She turned into a Grand Saloon, 
 
 Where with her cats she reigned 
 ecstatic. 
 "Henceforth," said she, "I'll live at lei- 
 sure, 
 And only work my Spells for pleasure." 
 
 She had a Sense of Humor dry, 
 
 She loved her Little Joke — and tho' 
 
 None of her Tricks were prompted by 
 A spiteful heart or love of show, 
 
 To love one's Joke does not, it's true, 
 
 Imply that Others love it too. 
 
 15 
 
She had a disconcerting way, 
 
 When Argument became a bore, 
 
 Of saying what she had to say 
 
 And disappearing through the Floor, 
 
 A joke that never failed to cause 
 
 A weird, if not side-splitting, Pause. 
 
 At meals, if there appeared a dish 
 God-mamma did not find appealing, 
 
 She'd wave her wand, and Fowl or Fish 
 Would promptly vanish thro' the ceiling, 
 
 And in its place would be Fried Mole 
 
 Or Crocodile en casserole. 
 
 16 
 
One day some Ladies of the Court 
 Performed a Play which bored her so, 
 
 She up and cried, " That's not my sort ! " 
 And changed it to a Ballet show. 
 
 A Tactless Joke, which caused, of course, 
 
 Much talk — and more than one Divorce. 
 
 17 
 
But nothing gave her such delight, 
 Or keener Sense of Humor showed, 
 
 Than when the Prince came home at night; 
 She'd change his door-key to a Toad, 
 
 And laugh to see it hop about, 
 
 Or turn the Key-Hole inside out. 
 
 Once, weary of her Pesterings, 
 The Prince apostrophized a bird, 
 
 Exclaiming, " Would I too had wings ! " 
 It chanced the Fairy overheard, 
 
 And, with the very best intentions, 
 
 Granted him wings of Large Dimensions. 
 
 18 
 
Now wings (as any Naturalist 
 Will tell you) are but variations 
 
 Of arms, and cannot co-exist 
 
 With such-like Brachial Formations. 
 
 Accordingly, he lost his arms, 
 
 Which handicaps a Prince's charms. 
 
 To his embarrassment and woe, 
 
 He had to be both dressed and fed 
 
 And brushed and bathed and put— but no, 
 That he was spared. His Wings when 
 spread 
 
 Were Forty Feet from side to side; 
 
 Bed was a luxury denied. 
 
 19 
 
He soon repented of his 
 Whim. 
 With wings like wind- 
 mill sails, of course, 
 No room was big enough for him. 
 
 So all night long, in Chill Remorse, 
 He perched upon the roof. At dawn 
 The spell was happily withdrawn. 
 20 
 
About this time the Princess planned 
 A grand Subscription Ball, to aid 
 
 The Starving Shepherds of the land. 
 The Prince, when told the shepherds 5 
 trade 
 
 Included Shepherdesses too, 
 
 Subscribed a Thumping I. O. U. 
 
 Upon the evening of the ball, 
 
 It chanced that God-mamma-in-law, 
 
 Flitting about the Palace Hall, 
 
 Passed by the Prince's Suite, and saw 
 
 His gladsome Evening Robes outspread 
 
 In neat array upon the bed. 
 
 21 
 
She eyed them sadly. Here in places 
 The silken pile was wearing thin ; 
 
 And here were stains and here were traces 
 Of where the Moth had broken in. 
 
 " Aha ! Aha ! it's plain to see 
 
 This is a little job for me ! 
 
 " I'll make him a new suit," said she, 
 " A brave new suit without a flaw. 
 
 I'd like to know what Home would be 
 Without a God-mamma-in-law." 
 
 And in its place upon the bed 
 
 A Fairy Substitute she spread. 
 
 11 
 
All unobserved, she slipped away, 
 Delighted with her Little Game, 
 
 And, seeking some new trick to play, 
 To Cinderella's closet came. 
 
 Where for her golden robe of state 
 
 She left a Fairy Duplicate. 
 
 Dressed for the ball, they drove in State, 
 Looking superlatively swell ; 
 
 God-mamma pleaded mal de tite 
 
 And from her window waved farewell. 
 
 Her voice rose o'er the people's cheers, 
 
 " Be back at twelve o'clock my dears ! " 
 
 2 3 
 
IV 
 
 THE BALL 
 
 Before the splendors of the Ball 
 
 The Boldest Metaphor grows tame; 
 
 Superlatives abjectly crawl 
 
 Back to their lexicon in shame, 
 
 And Synonyms in shrieking chorus 
 
 Take refuge in the deep Thesaurus. 
 
 But language has its Pioneers, 
 
 Who seek Fresh Words and Postures 
 new, 
 Slang rushes in where Syntax fears 
 To tread — so I for Ade halloo, 
 And say (with George's kind permission) 
 It was " A Heated Proposition" 
 24 
 
The Princess never dreamed her frock 
 Of gold was wrought by fairy power. 
 
 And set, like an alarming Clock, 
 To go off&t the midnight hour. 
 
 Her childish laugh rang with delight : 
 
 " Thank G^-mamma's not here to-night. ,: 
 
 Prince Charming looked his very best 
 To — I mean at — the Ladies Fair ; 
 
 No dread foreboding stirred his breast ; 
 No Writing on the Wall was there 
 
 To Tell him of the Awful Shock 
 
 Awaiting him at Twelve O'clock. 
 
 25 
 
MIDNIGHT 
 
 Again (see chapter on The Ball) 
 
 The Boldest Metaphor grows tame; 
 
 Superlatives abjectly crawl 
 
 Back to their lexicon in shame, 
 
 And Synonyms in shrieking chorus 
 
 Take refuge in the deep Thesaurus. 
 
 But every cloud that bars the sun 
 They say with silverwear is lined ; 
 
 And tho' they felt they were Undone, 
 Their Highnesses were cheered to find 
 
 At midnight when their Robes took wings, 
 
 They kept their — well, their Other Things. 
 26 
 
Perchance, Dear Reader, 
 you have noted 
 In that Department 
 which to Trade is 
 
 By Monthly Magazines 
 devoted, 
 
 The Pleasant Gentle- 
 men and Ladies 
 
 Whose Union Suits our 
 souls bewitch — 
 
 The Simple Flannels of 
 the Rich. 
 
 27 
 
Even arrayed as one of these, 
 
 In Homespun stood the Royal Twain, 
 While people cried, on bended knees, 
 
 " Long live their Majesties ! who deign 
 Thus by example to Restore 
 Our Woolen Industry of Yore ! " 
 
 Thro' all the Land the Tidings sped 
 From Door to Door, from Wife to 
 Wife, 
 
 Thro' all the Land the Fashion spread 
 For Woolen and the Simple Life. 
 
 New looms sprang up on every hand 
 
 And shepherds prospered in the land. 
 
 28 
 
Poor God-mamma, 'twas her last caper; 
 
 One night to throw some Light about 
 She changed herself into a Taper, 
 
 And Cinderella blew her out.- 
 The Princess then divorced the Prince, 
 And Both lived Happy Ever Since. 
 
 <l 9 
 
3° 
 
THE CHARM THAT 
 FAILED 
 
 /~-f 
 
 HE Hero of my tale 
 
 Was a serpent — don't turn 
 pale ! 
 My snake was not the "ser- 
 pent " of Theology 
 With an apple up his sleeve 
 To tempt some child of 
 Eve, 
 
 Nor was he versed in deadly Toxicology. 
 No, his fangs were free from guile, 
 And he had a roomy smile. 
 There was no more harmless snake in all 
 Zoology. 
 
 3i 
 
But since no creature known 
 
 Is perfect, I will own 
 He had one failing — vanity, alas ! innate. 
 
 He was also fond of sport, 
 
 Though not a cruel sort : 
 His aim was more to charm than to assas- 
 sinate. 
 
 He was often heard to say, 
 
 When feeling rather gay, 
 " I'd like to see the Bird I cannot fas- 
 cinate ! " 
 
 And one day 
 
 Some laughter -loving Fay 
 His boasting heard, 
 And sent a Bird, 
 
 3 n ~ 
 
It was sitting, stuffed and stiff on 
 A thing of straw and chiffon, 
 Ribbands and lace and jet and such like 
 finery, 
 By a milliner begotten 
 And some careless maid forgotten, 
 33 
 
In stuffed and lonely splendor in the 
 Vinery, 
 When with expectant eye 
 Mr. Serpent, by and by, 
 Strolled forth in search of game from out 
 the Pinery. 
 
 And the Bird 
 Never stirred 
 Or said a word. 
 
 " Aha ! " said Mr. Snake, 
 " Unless I much mistake, 
 Here's a charming subject for a Trance 
 Hypnotic ; 
 Soon I'll have her in my toils ! " 
 And with mysterious coils 
 
 34 
 
He advanced with air complacent and des- 
 potic. 
 
 Then he rose up, and let fly 
 
 A glance from out his eye, 
 And watched for the effect of his narcotic. 
 
 And the Bird 
 
 Never stirred 
 Or said a word. 
 
 Said Mr. Snake, " My spell 
 Seems to work extremely well." 
 And straightway with Majestic Pride he 
 puffed,' 
 But when an hour had pass'd, 
 And still the Bird stood fast, 
 
 35 
 
I must confess he felt a trifle hufT'd. 
 
 "There's something wrong," said he, 
 " With the Bird — or else with me." 
 
 How should he know the wretched thing 
 was stuffed ? 
 
 That Bird, 
 
 Who never stirred 
 
 Or said a word. 
 
 Mr. Snake was sorely troubled, 
 And his efforts he redoubled, 
 And he balanced on the tip end of his tail, 
 Swaying to and fro the while 
 Like a pendulum — a style 
 
 36 
 
That hitherto he'd never known to fail. 
 But not a word she uttered, 
 And not a feather fluttered 
 
 As he plied his mystic Art without avail. 
 
 " Confound the bird ! " he said, 
 And he stood upon his head 
 And waved his long mysterious tail in air, 
 And he focussed all the rays 
 Of his esoteric gaze 
 
 37 
 
Into one cold and petrifying glare. 
 
 But the Deadly Glance fell wide ; 
 
 He might as well have tried 
 To hypnotize a table or a chair — 
 
 As that Bird, 
 Who never stirred 
 Or said a word. 
 
 " That settles it ! " he cried. 
 " I will not be defied ! " 
 And he coiled himself to spring — oh, rash 
 proceeding ! 
 Like an arrow from a bow 
 He sprang — how should he know 
 
 38 
 
The Doom to which he was so swiftly 
 speeding P 
 Next moment he lay dead, 
 With a Hat Pin through his head, 
 Whereat, with most commendable good- 
 breeding — 
 
 The Bird 
 
 Never stirred 
 Or said a word. 
 
4 o 
 
THE SILVER 
 QUESTION 
 
 THE Sun appeared so smug and 
 bright, 
 One day, that I made bold 
 To ask him what he did each night 
 With all his surplus gold. 
 
 He flushed uncomfortably red, 
 And would not meet my eye. 
 
 " I travel round the world," he said, 
 " And travelling rates are high." 
 4i 
 
With frigid glance I pierced him 
 through. 
 He squirmed and changed his 
 tune. 
 Said he : "I will be frank with you : 
 I lend it to the Moon. 
 42 
 
" Poor thing ! You know she's growing 
 old 
 
 And hasn't any folk. 
 She suffers terribly from cold, 
 
 And half the time she's broke." 
 
 That evening on the beach I lay 
 
 Behind a lonely dune, 
 And as she rose above the bay 
 
 I buttonholed the Moon. 
 • 
 " Tell me about that gold," said I. 
 
 I saw her features fall. 
 " You see, it's useless to deny ; 
 
 The Sun has told me all." 
 
 " Sir! " she exclaimed, " how can you try 
 An honest Moon this way ? 
 
 As for the gold, I put it by 
 Against a rainy day." 
 
 43 
 
i 
 
 
 ^-^ a^jiu^TcdQ 
 
 44 
 
I smiled and shook my head. " All right, 
 If you must know," said she, 
 
 " I change it into silver bright 
 Wherewith to tip the Sea. 
 
 "He is so faithful and so good, 
 
 A most deserving case ; 
 If he should leave, I fear it would 
 
 Be hard to fill his place." 
 
 When asked if they accepted tips, 
 The waves became so rough ; 
 
 I thought of those at sea in ships, 
 And felt I'd said enough. 
 
 45 
 
For if one virtue I have learned, 
 
 'Tis tact ; so I forbore 
 To press the matter, though I burned 
 
 To ask one question more. 
 
 I hate a scene, and do not wish 
 To be mixed up in gales, 
 
 But, oh, I longed to ask the Fish 
 
 Whence came their silver scales ! 
 
 ri ...„... r .,..^ . A . . . .;,;;■_..-■ 
 
 
 ^5«r 
 
 a 
 
 NL -■'■":'■ : ; :'■. iY ~^**?^c^t 
 
 46 
 
HOW THE LION 
 BECAME KING 
 
 ONCE in the hazy days of Yore 
 (I cannot very well be more 
 Explicit, since it was before 
 Dates were invented). 
 Once on a time, as I began 
 To say, the Lion formed a plan 
 To undermine the rule of Man, 
 Which he resented. 
 
 47 
 
In answer to the Lion's call, 
 
 His fellow-creatures, great and small, 
 
 From earth and air came one and all 
 
 In Trepidation. 
 He then delivered a discourse, 
 And proved with eloquence and force 
 Man was their one and only source 
 
 Of Tribulation. 
 
 " What is he — taken at his best? 
 
 A mere pretence ! Not even dressed, 
 
 If we his puny form divest 
 
 Of spoil he's looted. 
 The fact that we can far excel 
 His boasted Strength and Speed, as well 
 As Hearing, Sight, and Taste and Smell, 
 
 Is undisputed. 
 
 4 8 
 
" I am not boasting when I own 
 
 For Strength I'd back my claws alone 
 
 Against his battle-axe of stone ; 
 
 While, as to Vision, 
 'Tis nothing more than idle talk 
 To mention Man beside the Hawk — 
 The swift Horse, too, his clumsy walk 
 
 Views with derision. 
 
 "Only Man's Ignorance, I'm bound 
 To say, could possibly confound 
 The Scent and Hearing of the Hound 
 
 With his dull powers ; 
 As well his Taste, that gluts on fare 
 Like half-burnt Antelope and Bear, 
 With the fastidious Bee compare, 
 
 That sips the flowers. 
 
 49 
 
"And yet," the Lion said, "though we 
 Outshine Man to the last degree 
 Collectively, none holds as he 
 The Combination. " 
 
 5° 
 
In short, the moral of his theme 
 Was this : If Beasts would reign supreme 
 Their only practicable scheme 
 Was Federation. 
 
 5i 
 
And so, in view of Public Need, 
 
 The Hawk, Hound, Bee, and Horse 
 
 agreed 
 To pool their Sight, Scent, Taste, and 
 Speed ; 
 
 And in due season 
 They made, pro tem., the Lion King, 
 Intrusting him with everything 
 Upon condition he would bring 
 
 Proud Man to reason. 
 
 The crafty Lion then proposed 
 To send an Embassy composed 
 Of those same four. As none opposed, 
 They started straightway, 
 
 52 
 
And, coming to Man's portals wide, 
 They entered, but no trace espied 
 Of Man, until (from the outside) 
 He closed the gateway. 
 
 And there he kept them till they swore 
 To be his servants evermore, 
 And work his will, and bow before 
 
 His rod of iron : 
 The Dog to watch, the Hawk to kill, 
 The Horse to carry and to till, 
 The Bee with sweets his jars to fill. 
 
 All save the Lion — 
 
 The Lion stayed at home — and purred, 
 And kept thenceforth the crown conferred 
 Pro tern., and nothing more was heard 
 About Conditions. 
 
 S3 
 
So ends my tale. Perchance it brings 
 Some light to bear on certain things — 
 Such as the Origin of Kings, 
 And Politicians. 
 
 54 
 
THE WAKEFUL 
 PRINCESS 
 
 ONE Time there lived (that is to say, 
 If half a crust of bread a day 
 And sleeping on a bed of hay 
 
 May so be rated) 
 A Gentle Youth who tuned his lay 
 
 To all the Metres of the 
 
 day, 
 But was not, I regret to 
 
 say, 
 yS, Appreciated. 
 
In Market-place or Public Way 
 He read his ode or sang his lay, 
 As was the custom of the day, 
 
 But none suggested 
 A Laurel Wreath or Crown of Bay : 
 Instead, one morn, to his dismay, 
 While spouting forth a Tragic Play, 
 
 He was arrested. 
 
 In Irons he was led away, 
 
 And, by a Justice stern and gray, 
 
 For blocking up the Public Way 
 
 He was indicted. 
 Then, since he had nowith to pay 
 The Fine (a trifle anyway), 
 To leave the town without delay 
 
 He was invited. 
 
 56 
 
There was no choice but to obey — 
 He left the town at break of day, 
 Yet still his heart was brave and gay ; 
 
 Fate could not queer him. 
 For was it not the month of May, 
 Were there not flowers beside the way, 
 And little lambs to sport and play, 
 
 And birds to cheer him ? 
 
He journeyed on for many a day ; 
 
 The Peasants gave him Curds and Whey; 
 
 For aught I know the Fairies may 
 
 Some Food have found him. 
 At night he slept beneath a Bay 
 Or Laurel Tree, and, I dare say, 
 Dreamed he was Laureate, and they 
 
 Were twined around him. 
 
 Indeed, his only trouble lay 
 In this, that tho' his spirits gay 
 And gentle Heart and winning way 
 
 Charmed and delighted 
 All whom he met, yet, strange to say, 
 To hear his verses none would stay — 
 Even the Peasants ran away 
 
 When he recited. 
 
 58 
 
But he was not the sort that say, 
 " Oh, woe is mine — alack-a-day ! " 
 He lived for Hope, and in some way 
 
 Was bound to find it. 
 " What matter ! Let them go," he'd say ; 
 " Each to his taste — henceforth I'll play 
 And sing to Birds alone, for they 
 
 Don't seem to mind it." 
 S9 
 
And so he journeyed many a day, 
 Till now at last his darkening way 
 Lies thro' a forest dim and gray; 
 
 Yet, nothing daunted, 
 Though hoary branches bar the way, 
 And twisted roots his steps betray, 
 And ghostly voices seem to say 
 
 The place is haunted, 
 
 Singing a Carol blithe and gay, 
 He presses on, nor does he stay, 
 Until at last the light of day 
 
 His sight surprises. 
 And now a little winding way 
 Leads, through a meadow pink with May, 
 To where, not half a mile away, 
 
 A Palace rises. 
 
 60 
 
He wandered on, his thoughts astray, 
 
 Framing a little Roundelay 
 
 And weaving garlands of the May 
 
 (For whom not guessing), 
 Until before him suddenly 
 There loomed a gateway grim and gray, 
 Whose dark doors yielded to the sway 
 
 Of his light pressing. 
 
 61 
 
And lo ! a garden gleaming, gay 
 With flowers in dazzling array, 
 And fountains flashing silver spray, 
 
 And bowers shady ; 
 And on an emerald bank there lay 
 A creature fairer than the day, 
 Yet sadder than a moonlight ray — 
 
 A wondrous lady. 
 
 Abashed the Poet turned away, 
 When a low voice entreated, " Stay ! 
 Read me that little Roundelay 
 I heard you singing." 
 
 62 
 
It was as though upon him lay 
 A spell that forced him to obey, 
 And he recited it straightway 
 In voice clear ringing. 
 
 A dreamy, languid, far-away 
 Expression dims her eyes as they, 
 Like violets at droop of day, 
 
 Are closing — closing. 
 The Poet ends his Roundelay, 
 And turns to hear what she may say, 
 And finds to his complete dismay 
 
 The Princess dozing. 
 
 63 
 
Then rose a cry : " She sleeps ! Hurray ! 
 The Princess sleeps ! Oh, joyful day ! 
 The spell is broken — Rise, I pray, 
 
 Oh, sweet song-maker." 
 'Twas the King spoke, "Arise, I pray: 
 I make you Laureate this day ; 
 My daughter's hand, too, by the way, 
 
 Is yours — don't w 7 ake her." 
 
 6 4 
 
A MODERN 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 SCENE — On Manhattan Island. Time 
 — To-day. Hour — Ten-thirty. Per- 
 sons of the play : 
 
 Sibyl. A dream of 'beauty ', half-awake, 
 In filmy disarray — about to take 
 Her morning tub. In speech with her the 
 
 while 
 Is Robert. He is dressed in riding style. 
 Sibyl — Why, Bob, it's you ! They got 
 your name all wrong. 
 I'm sorry that I made you wait 
 so long. 
 
 65 
 
Bob — Only six minutes by my watch — 
 it's true 
 A minute seems a year, awaiting 
 
 you ! 
 But Time is merciful and I rejoice 
 That I am still alive to hear your 
 voice. 
 Sibyl — A very pretty speech, for you, 
 indeed. 
 But what extenuation can you 
 
 plead 
 For waking ladies at the break of 
 
 day 
 From peaceful slumbers, sir ! 
 Bob — Oh, come, I say ! 
 
 It's half past ten ! 
 Sibyl — Well, it was nearly three 
 
 Before I got to bed ! 
 
 66 
 
Bob — Good gracious me ! 
 
 I'm sure I'd no idea it was so late. 
 Why, I was riding in the Park at 
 
 eight 
 And looked for you. I own I 
 
 felt abused ; 
 
 Last night you said 
 
 Sibyl — I beg to be excused 
 
 From keeping foolish promises, 
 
 when made 
 At two a.m., by moonlight. I'm 
 
 afraid 
 My memory's no better than a 
 
 sieve. 
 So you expected me ? The Lord 
 
 forgive 
 Your trusting soul ! 
 Bob — It is His metier! 
 
 67 
 
Sibyl — Don't be outrageous, or I'll run 
 
 away. 
 Bob — Ah, no ; don't go. I will be good, 
 I swear ! 
 'Twas a quotation, Heine, or Vol- 
 taire, 
 Or some fool cynic fellow. By 
 
 the way, 
 Ir you have nothing on, what do 
 
 you say 
 To breakfasting with Peg and me 
 
 at noon 
 At the Casino ? 
 Sibyl — Well, that's rather soon ; 
 
 I can't be ready for an hour or 
 more. 
 Bob — Come as you are, you know that 
 I adore 
 
 68 
 
Your ladyship in any sort of gown; 
 Besides, there's not another soul 
 
 in town. 
 Come as you are ; there'll only be 
 we three. 
 Sibyl — Well, I like that ! It's fortunate 
 for me 
 This is a telephone and not that 
 
 new 
 Invention one can talk and see 
 
 through, too ! 
 What's that you said ? 
 Bob — I didn't speak at all 
 
 I only thought. 
 Sibyl — Well, don't ! Suppose we call 
 
 The breakfast half past one instead 
 of noon ? 
 Bob [joyously) — 
 
 Then you will come ? 
 
 6 9 
 
Sibyl — I swear ! 
 
 Bob — Not by the moon ? 
 
 Sibyl [laughing] — 
 
 No, you may count on me. Now 
 
 I must fly. 
 One-thirty — don't forget — Good- 
 by! 
 Bob — Good-by ! 
 
 (They ring off.) 
 
 70 
 
THE HEART 
 OF ICE 
 
 NOW whither are you flying 
 And on what game intent, 
 Cupid ? There's no denying 
 
 On mischief you are bent. 
 What is the use of trying 
 To look so innocent? 
 
 What means your empty quiver ? 
 
 Did heart of some coquette 
 Your golden arrows shiver ? 
 
 Or did you, boy, upset 
 Your darts in Lethe's river, 
 
 Or break them in a pet ? 
 
 7 1 
 
What is it you're concealing, 
 My patience to annoy? 
 
 A heart you have been stealing, 
 Or some such foolish toy ? 
 
 Come, now — no double-dealing ! 
 Out with it — Cupid, boy ! 
 
 " I have," quoth Cupid, shyly, 
 " A thing wherewith to hew 
 
 Cold hearts " (he hinted slyly 
 That such a heart I knew). 
 
 " 'Tis recommended highly — 
 An ice-pick — what say you ? " 
 
 72 
 
Gravely I shake my finger 
 At Cupid — " 'Tis indeed 
 
 The very thing to bring her 
 To reason, boy, so speed ! 
 
 Fly, Cupid ! Do not linger — 
 Jove grant you may succeed ! " 
 
 73 
 
74 
 
THE JUDG- 
 MENT OF 
 BISHOP 
 VALENTINE 
 
 ONE tyme a Youthe of faire degree 
 Didde looke upon a Mayde. Ah 
 me, 
 She was as coye as anye flow'r. 
 She stole hys harte in thatte sayme how'r. 
 Alle vainlie he to Love didde calle, 
 Ye blinde Godde holp hym notte atte alle. 
 
 75 
 
To Bishop Valentine thenne hies 
 
 Ye Youthe, ye Damosel likewyse, 
 
 Ande each 'gan tell hys tayle of griete. 
 
 Each sayd ye other was ye thiefe. 
 
 " Zounds ! " cried ye Sainte, " this brawle 
 
 must cease. 
 I'll binde ye bothe to keepe ye peace." 
 Whereat ye twain in nowyse loath, 
 " Pray then wyth one bond binde us 
 
 bothe." 
 Loude laughed ye Sainte, " Perdi ! 'Tis 
 
 done ! " 
 And made ye Youthe and Mayden one. 
 
 7 6 
 
Lady, anent this suit of mine 
 
 In search of precedents, I waded 
 Through ancient lore, and found this fine 
 
 Old Judgment, in a parchment faded. 
 If you will ponder the last line 
 
 And be by wise example aided, 
 We, too, will make Saint Valentine 
 
 Our Judge, and — compromise, as they 
 did. 
 
 77 
 
THE BACHELOR 
 GIRL 
 
 HERE'S to the Bachelor Girl 
 Who fain her charms would 
 cloister. 
 She is a precious pearl 
 
 That will not leave the oyster. 
 She is a proud sweet-pea 
 
 That scorns to be a vine, 
 And lean upon a tree 
 
 Or round a stick entwine. 
 " What ! lean upon a stick ! 
 
 Oh, no ! I'm not that sort — 
 I will grow branches thick 
 And be my own support ! " 
 
 78 
 
Beware, O pearl of price, 
 
 Lest you be cast to swine ; 
 O proud sweet-pea, think twice 
 
 Ere you refuse to twine ! 
 O Bachelor Girl, we drink 
 
 Confusion to your plan ; 
 Beware, lest Fate shall link 
 
 You to a Spinster Man ! 
 O change, ere 'tis too late, 
 
 The choker tall and silly, 
 The tweeds— -the hat we hate, 
 
 For something soft and frilly ! 
 Take off the stockings blue, 
 
 (We will avert our gaze), 
 Then will we drink to you 
 ■ Long life — and happy days ! 
 
 79 
 
^X'- 
 
 WE'VE drunk to everything we 
 know, 
 From Lang Syne to The Ladies ; 
 Now, one more Toast before we go — 
 
 Mephisto, Prince of Hades ! 
 When sober we are wont, 'tis true, 
 
 To bury, not to praise him ; 
 But let us give the De'il his due, 
 
 And toast him while we raise him. 
 For tho' his company we're taught 
 
 To shun, there's no denying 
 Mephisto never yet was caught 
 Beneath false colors flying. 
 80 
 
He wears his coat and plume of red 
 
 With candor so unswerving 
 We must applaud, although 'tis said 
 
 He took some points from Irving. 
 Think of the Stage, think of the Church, 
 
 Without their villain ruddy, 
 If Old Nick left them in the lurch 
 
 Without an understudy ! 
 As well " Othello " played without 
 
 The Gentleman of Color, 
 Or " Hamlet " with the Prince left out : 
 
 Could anything be duller ? 
 A world from all temptation free 
 
 Would sadly lack in flavor ; 
 And what would Untried Virtue be 
 
 But Salt without its savor? 
 
 81 
 
To pawn his soul the sinner goes 
 
 More than half-way to meet him, 
 Yet when Mephisto would foreclose 
 
 He does his best to cheat him. 
 In Church to-day we sound his Knell, 
 
 To-morrow at a revel 
 We fall to raising him — and — well, 
 
 We treat him like the Devil. 
 So let us toast our Foe of Foes, 
 
 Long may we live to rout him. 
 Here's to Mephisto ! Goodness knows 
 
 What would we do without him. 
 And, good Mephisto, do not spurn 
 
 Our Toast with mocking laughter, 
 Nor yet the compliment return — 
 
 By Toasting us hereafter ! 
 
 82 
 
A CORNER IN CURLS 
 
 ONCE on a time when Men were Bold 
 And Women Fair — to be precise — 
 A Princess lived whose 
 Hair was Gold 
 Beyond the Dreams | 
 of Avarice ; 
 
 Beauty she had and 
 Wealth untold, 
 Besides a Fabulous 
 Amount 
 Of Jewels rare and Crowns of Gold, 
 And Suitors more than she could count. 
 
 83 
 
Such Suitors! Tho' her Fingers Fair 
 Had been as leaves upon the Trees 
 
 They still were far too few to wear 
 
 The Rings they offered, on their Knees. 
 
 In Coaches, Caravans, and Ships 
 The Suitors came in Flocks untold, 
 
 Happy to kiss her Finger-tips 
 
 And beg from her a Lock of Gold. 
 
 For tho' she seemed to Cupid's Dart 
 Impervious, and would not share 
 
 The smallest atom of her Heart, 
 She was most lavish with her Hair. 
 
 8 4 
 
Vfe° 
 
 i 
 
 
 To all who craved the Golden Boon 
 She gave, until one Night her Maid 
 
 Exclaimed, "Alas! Your Highness soon 
 Will not have Hair enough to braid!" 
 
 Next day the Court was in a state, 
 The usual audience was refused, 
 
 A Notice hung upon the Gate — 
 " The Princess begs to be Excused" 
 
 85 
 
Daily the Throng of Suitors grew 
 And clamored madly at the door, 
 
 Until at length they formed a queue 
 Extending for a mile or more. 
 
 The Chancellor was in despair. 
 
 " Princess, it comes to this," he said, 
 " That either you must lose your hair 
 
 Or I must surely lose my head ! " 
 
 The Princess turned away her face. 
 
 " Oh, dear,'* she cried, " this grieves me 
 sore ; 
 It will be hard to fill your place — 
 
 You were a first-rate Chancellor ! 
 
 86 
 
" But do not grieve — I have a plan 
 
 To keep your head and save my Pride." 
 
 Then to the marble gate she ran, 
 
 Unloosed her hair, stepped forth, and 
 cried : 
 
 " Brave Suitors, look upon this Gold, 
 This mint of Curls — lo, I present 
 
 A share to each of you — behold 
 
 My Notes of Curl — at five per cent ! " 
 
 A cheer rose from a Thousand Throats ; 
 
 The panic passed — and months flew by. 
 The Princess issued Tons of Notes, 
 
 When lo ! — a Bolt from out the Sky — 
 
 87 
 
A message came, brought by a Churl : 
 " Pont Morgan, Sultan of Peru, 
 
 Has bought up all your Notes of Curl, 
 And all your Notes are falling Due ! " 
 
 The Princess grew distraught with fears 
 By Day. At night she tossed in Bed, 
 
 Dreaming an Awful Pair of Shears 
 Hung by a Hair above her Head. 
 
c^ 
 
 At last the Fatal Morning came, 
 
 And with it came Pont Morgan, too, 
 
 With Awful Shears to press his claim. 
 And an Enormous Retinue. 
 
 " The Law is Just ! " the People cried ; 
 
 " And She the Penalty must pay ! " 
 The Shears their Awful Jaws spread wide, 
 
 When suddenly a Voice cried, " Stay ! " 
 
 8 9 
 
An Unknown Damsel, Pale and Proud, 
 And clad in Silken Cap and Gown, 
 
 Strode swiftly through the gaping crowd, 
 And struck the Awful Scissors down. 
 
 " Beware ! " she cried, " Proud Sultan, ere 
 You touch a Hair of that Fair Head ; 
 
 For know you not that Every Hair 
 Is numbered — as the Prophet said ? 
 
 90 
 
" Show me the Notes — see, here is writ 
 A number plain across each Bond, 
 
 And you may only draw for it 
 
 The numbered Hair to correspond. 
 
 " So pause, Pont Morgan, ere you draw 
 A Single Hair from that Gold Head ; 
 
 If it be wrong — then by the Law 
 
 Your Life and Lands are forfeited ! " 
 
 9i 
 
"Hurray! Hurray! The Maid is Right!" 
 The People cried with mad uproar. 
 
 The Sultan turned a deadly white, 
 And fell in Fits upon the Floor. 
 
 " O Lady, whosoe'er you be, 
 
 Claim what you will in all my Land ! 
 
 The Princess cried. " I am," said he, 
 " Not Maid, but Man — I claim your 
 Hand." 
 
 " 'Tis yours ! Right gladly will I be 
 Your Bride — for in Creation's Plan 
 
 I never dreamed to find," said she, 
 " A Portia's Logic in a Man ! " 
 
 92 
 
THE HYDRANT- 
 HEADED MONSTER 
 
 Being an epistle to Paul. From Temperance 
 
 IT comes ! The monster rearing high, 
 Against the lurid western sky, 
 Its horrid, hissing Hydrant Heads, 
 While o'er the shuddering land it sheds 
 93 
 
A dreary pall of waste and woe 
 And chilling streams of H 2 0. 
 Now saints defend us, one and all, 
 And most especially Saint Paul, 
 Thou patron saint of Honest Fighting 
 And Common Sense and Letterwriting, 
 Who one time, for his "stomach's sake," 
 Bade Timothy the wine cup take ; 
 Stay now this Water Fiend's advance 
 And save thy servant Temperance, 
 Ere Abstinence, that glum wet-nurse 
 Of Dire Dyspepsia, Chills, and worse, 
 Blow out the Lights of Love and Mirth, 
 And so asphyxiate the Earth. 
 
 94 
 
TO MY TOY CANARY 
 
 EE saffron sage, 
 Make-believe bird, fluffy, 
 
 absurd, 
 In mimic cage 
 Through beady eyes you scrutinize 
 A Noisy Age. 
 
 You boast no cc Tree," 
 No painted shell your Natal Cell, 
 
 Your Pedigree, 
 Neatly displayed, reads simply, " Made 
 
 In Germany." 
 
 95 
 
What do I care 
 Tho' to fresh seed you pay no heed — 
 
 Since on Plain Air 
 You gayly feast ? Of that at least 
 
 I have to spare. 
 
 You do not pour 
 From your wide bill a gladsome trill, 
 
 Thanks be, therefore ! 
 The best of tune, repeated, soon 
 
 Becomes a bore ! 
 
 You simply stare 
 When I exclaim "Wilhelm" (your name) ; 
 
 You do not care 
 For William Hohenzollern, tho' 
 
 His name you bear. 
 
 9 6 
 
What would you say 
 If William the Unsilent, he 
 
 Should come your way ? 
 And fume, and pout, and storm — and 
 shout, 
 
 cc Lese-Majeste ! " 
 
 'Twould vex his pride 
 To see you hold that Gift of Gold 
 
 To him denied — 
 " Silence," the sole and only role 
 
 He has not tried. 
 
 Fear not his grim, 
 Imperial ire; no torture dire, 
 
 No dungeon dim, 
 Your fate shall be : This land is free — 
 
 At least from him. 
 
 97 
 
Wee saffron sage, 
 Pipe all day long your silent song 
 
 While by your cage, 
 Musing, I let my soul forget 
 
 The Noisy Age. 
 
99 
 
IOO 
 
THE HAND OF TIME 
 
 E dreams beneath lamplight 
 
 pale, 
 Like Beauty in the fairy-tale 
 
 Of Messrs. Grimm. 
 And as I gaze, behold, a 
 Thing, 
 A shape, a face white, menacing, 
 Hangs o'er her 'mid a ghostly ring 
 Of figures dim. 
 
 Now o'er the figures dark I see 
 A hand which moves relentlessly, 
 Remorseless, black. 
 
 IOI 
 
The hand' of Time — and through me flit 
 The Solemn words by Omar writ, 
 " Not all your piety nor wit 
 Can lure it back." 
 
 She sighs, she stirs, her lids unclose 
 Like petals of a pearly rose 
 
 After the rain. 
 And as she notes, with startled eye, 
 The Station Clock, I hear her cry, 
 " It's twenty minutes past — oh, my ! 
 
 I've missed my train." 
 
 102 
 
^4#& 
 
 r y* J/ !r : & /;[>/ Iff 1 
 
 ENVOI 
 
 " f~)H, Winter, must you leave so soon? " 
 &7/V Spring as Winter turned to go. 
 
 " If only you could stay till June, 
 And help to make my garden grow.'''' 
 IO3 
 
So back again that night he goes 
 To see the Jlowers, how they grow. 
 
 Poor thingSy they looked so cold, he throws 
 O' er them a coverlet — of snow. 
 
 Next morning Spring was full of woe 
 To find her fowers frozen — dead. 
 
 i * The Fool I never thought he* d go 
 And take me at my word, ' ' she said. 
 
 IO4