There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, “If you choose to suppose
That my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong!”
That remarkable Man with a nose.

There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
Whose Grandmother 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 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 Person of Chile,
Whose conduct was painful and silly;
He sat on the stairs, eating apples and pears,
That imprudent Old Person of Chile.

There was an Old Man with a gong,
Who bumped at it all the day long;
But they called out, “Oh, law! you’re a horrid old bore!”
So they smashed that Old Man with a gong.

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

There was an Old Man of Columbia,
Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer;
But they brought it quite hot, in a small copper pot,
Which disgusted that man of Columbia.

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.”

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 a Young Lady whose chin
Resembled the point of a pin;
So she had it made sharp, and purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.

There was an Old Man with a flute⁠—
A “sarpint” ran into his boot!
But he played day and night, till the “sarpint” took flight,
And avoided that Man with a flute.

There was a Young Lady of Portugal,
Whose ideas were excessively nautical;
She climbed up a tree to examine the sea,
But declared she would never leave Portugal.

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 Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree, he took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.

There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, “I’m afloat! I’m afloat!”
When they said, “No, you ain’t!” he was ready to faint,
That unhappy Old Man in a boat.

There was an Old Person of Buda,
Whose conduct grew ruder and ruder,
Till at last with a hammer they silenced his clamor.
By smashing that Person of Buda.

There was an Old Man of Moldavia,
Who had the most curious behavior;
For while he was able, he slept on a table,
That funny Old Man of Moldavia.

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.

There was an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-colored Ass;
But the length of its ears so promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.

There was an Old Person of Dover,
Who rushed through a field of blue clover;
But some very large Bees stung his nose and his knees,
So he very soon went back to Dover.

There was an Old Person of Leeds,
Whose head was infested with beads;
She sat on a stool and ate gooseberry-fool,
Which agreed with that Person of Leeds.

There was an Old Person of Cadiz,
Who was always polite to all ladies;
But in handing his daughter, he fell into the water,
Which drowned that Old Person of Cadiz.

There was an Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sang “High dum diddle,” and played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.

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 who supposed
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large Rats ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile Old Gentleman dozed.

There was an Old Person whose habits
Induced him to feed upon Rabbits;
When he’d eaten eighteen, he turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There was an Old Man of the West,
Who wore a pale plum-colored vest;
When they said, “Does it fit?” he replied, “Not a bit!”
That uneasy Old Man of the West.

There was an Old Man of Marseilles,
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils:
They caught several Fish, which they put in a dish,
And sent to their Pa at Marseilles.

There was an Old Man of the Wrekin,
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking;
But they said, “Tell us whether your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?”

There was a Young 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 a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat in a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat, she exclaimed, “What of that?”
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar;
He fed twenty sons upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia.

There was an Old Man of Quebec⁠—
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, “With a needle I’ll slay you, O beadle!”
That angry Old Man of Quebec.

There was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs to her Uncle’s white Pigs:
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

There was an Old Person of Philoe,
Whose conduct was scroobious and wily;
He rushed up a Palm when the weather was calm,
And observed all the ruins of Philoe.

There was an Old Man with a poker,
Who painted his face with red ochre.
When they said, “You’re a Guy!” he made no reply,
But knocked them all down with his poker.

There was an Old Person of Prague,
Who was suddenly seized with the plague;
But they gave him some butter, which caused him to mutter,
And cured that Old Person of Prague.

There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once, by mistake, in a stove she did bake
That unfortunate Man of Peru.

There was an Old Man of the North,
Who fell into a basin of broth;
But a laudable cook fished him out with a hook,
Which saved that Old Man of the North.

There was an Old Person of Troy,
Whose drink was warm brandy and soy,
Which he took with a spoon, by the light of the moon,
In sight of the city of Troy.

There was an Old Person of Mold,
Who shrank from sensations of cold;
So he purchased some muffs, some furs, and some fluffs,
And wrapped himself well from the cold.

There was an Old Person of Tring,
Who embellished his nose with a ring;
He gazed at the moon every evening in June,
That ecstatic Old Person of Tring.

There was an Old Man of Nepaul,
From his horse had a terrible fall;
But, though split quite in two, with some very strong glue
They mended that man of Nepaul.

There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut off his thumbs, and said calmly, “This comes
Of sharpening one’s nails with a file!”

There was an Old Man of th’ Abruzzi,
So blind that he couldn’t his foot see;
When they said, “That’s your toe,” he replied, “Is it so?”
That doubtful Old Man of th’ Abruzzi.

There was an Old Man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread and butter;
Till a great bit of muffin, on which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid Old Man of Calcutta.

There was an Old Person of Rhodes,
Who strongly objected to toads;
He paid several cousins to catch them by dozens,
That futile Old Person of Rhodes.

There was an Old Man of the South,
Who had an immoderate mouth;
But in swallowing a dish that was quite full of Fish,
He was choked, that Old Man of the South.

There was an Old Man of Melrose,
Who walked on the tips of his toes;
But they said, “It ain’t pleasant to see you at present,
You stupid Old Man of Melrose.”

There was an Old Man of the Dee,
Who was sadly annoyed by a Flea;
When he said, “I will scratch it!” they gave him a hatchet,
Which grieved that Old Man of the Dee.

There was a Young 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 Man of Coblenz,
The length of whose legs was immense;
He went with one prance from Turkey to France,
That surprising Old Man of Coblenz.

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 Man of Corfu,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he rushed up and down, till the sun made him brown,
That bewildered Old Man of Corfu.

There was an Old Man of Vesuvius,
Who studied the works of Vitruvius;
When the flames burnt his book, to drinking he took,
That morbid Old Man of Vesuvius.

There was an Old Man of Dundee,
Who frequented the top of a tree;
When disturbed by the Crows, he abruptly arose,
And exclaimed, “I’ll return to Dundee!”

There was an Old Lady whose folly
Induced her to sit in a holly;
Whereon, by a thorn her dress being torn,
She quickly became melancholy.

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his Wife up in a box:
When she said, “Let me out,” he exclaimed, “Without doubt
You will pass all your life in that box.”

There was an Old Person of Rheims,
Who was troubled with horrible dreams;
So to keep him awake they fed him with cake,
Which amused that Old Person of Rheims.

There was an Old Man of Leghorn,
The smallest that ever was born;
But quickly snapt up he was once by a Puppy,
Who devoured that Old Man of Leghorn.

There was an Old Man in a pew,
Whose waistcoat was spotted with blue;
But he tore it in pieces, to give to his Nieces,
That cheerful Old Man in a pew.

There was an Old Man of Jamaica,
Who suddenly married a Quaker;
But she cried out, “Oh, lack! I have married a black!”
Which distressed that Old Man of Jamaica.

There was an Old Man who said, “How
Shall I flee from this horrible Cow?
I will sit on this stile, and continue to smile,
Which may soften the heart of that Cow.”

There was a Young 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 a Young Lady 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 Person of Dutton,
Whose head was as small as a button;
So to make it look big he purchased a wig,
And rapidly rushed about Dutton.

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!”

There was a Young 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 a Young Lady of Tyre,
Who swept the loud chords of a lyre;
At the sound of each sweep she enraptured the deep,
And enchanted the city of Tyre.

There was an Old Person of Bangor,
Whose face was distorted with anger;
He tore off his boots, and subsisted on roots,
That borascible Person of Bangor.

There was an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his children a feast;
But they all ate so much, and their conduct was such,
That it killed that Old Man of the East.

There was an Old Man of the Coast,
Who placidly sat on a post;
But when it was cold he relinquished his hold,
And called for some hot buttered toast.

There was an Old Man of Kamschatka,
Who possessed a remarkably fat Cur;
His gait and his waddle were held as a model
To all the fat dogs in Kamschatka.

There was an Old Person of Gretna,
Who rushed down the crater of Etna;
When they said, “Is it hot?” he replied, “No, it’s not!”
That mendacious Old Person of Gretna.

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who sat on a Horse when he reared;
But they said, “Never mind! you will fall off behind,
You propitious Old Man with a beard!”

There was an Old Man of Berlin,
Whose form was uncommonly thin;
Till he once, by mistake, was mixed up in a cake,
So they baked that Old Man of Berlin.

There was an Old Man of the West,
Who never could get any rest;
So they set him to spin on his nose and his chin,
Which cured that Old Man of the West.

There was an Old Person of Cheadle
Was put in the stocks by the Beadle
For stealing some pigs, some coats, and some wigs,
That horrible person of Cheadle.

There was an Old Person of Anerley,
Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly;
He rushed down the Strand with a Pig in each hand,
But returned in the evening to Anerley.

There was a Young Lady of Wales,
Who caught a large Fish without scales;
When she lifted her hook, she exclaimed, “Only look!”
That ecstatic Young Lady of Wales.

There was a Young Lady of Welling,
Whose praise all the world was a-telling;
She played on the harp, and caught several Carp,
That accomplished Young Lady of Welling.

There was an Old Person of Tartary,
Who divided his jugular artery;
But he screeched to his Wife, and she said, “Oh, my life!
Your death will be felt by all Tartary!”

There was an Old Man of Whitehaven,
Who danced a quadrille with a Raven;
But they said, “It’s absurd to encourage this bird!”
So they smashed that Old Man of Whitehaven.

There was a Young Lady of Sweden,
Who went by the slow train to Weedon;
When they cried, “Weedon Station!” she made no observation,
But thought she should go back to Sweden.

There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones, which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Old Person of Chester.

There was an Old Man of the Cape,
Who possessed a large Barbary Ape;
Till the Ape, one dark night, set the house all alight,
Which burned that Old Man of the Cape.

There was an Old Person of Burton,
Whose answers were rather uncertain;
When they said, “How d’ ye do?” he replied, “Who are you?”
That distressing Old Person of Burton.

There was an Old Person of Ems
Who casually fell in the Thames;
And when he was found, they said he was drowned,
That unlucky Old Person of Ems.

There was a Young Girl of Majorca,
Whose Aunt was a very fast walker;
She walked seventy miles, and leaped fifteen stiles,
Which astonished that Girl of Majorca.

There was a Young Lady of Poole,
Whose soup was excessively cool;
So she put it to boil by the aid of some oil,
That ingenious Young Lady of Poole.

There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, “Are these caps?” she answered, “Perhaps!”
That oracular Lady of Prague.

There was a Young Lady of Parma,
Whose conduct grew calmer and calmer:
When they said, “Are you dumb?” she merely said, “Hum!”
That provoking Young Lady of Parma.

There was an Old Person of Sparta,
Who had twenty-five sons and one “darter;”
He fed them on Snails, and weighed them in scales,
That wonderful Person of Sparta.

There was an Old Man on whose nose
Most birds of the air could repose;
But they all flew away at the closing of day,
Which relieved that Old Man and his nose.

There was a Young Lady of Turkey,
Who wept when the weather was murky;
When the day turned out fine, she ceased to repine,
That capricious Young Lady of Turkey.

There was an Old Man of Aôsta
Who possessed a large Cow, but he lost her;
But they said, “Don’t you see she has run up a tree,
You invidious Old Man of Aôsta?”

There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous Person of Crete.

There was a Young Lady of Clare,
Who was madly pursued by a Bear;
When she found she was tired, she abruptly expired,
That unfortunate Lady of Clare.

There was a Young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
But its color and size so bedazzled her eyes,
That she very soon went back to Dorking.

There was an Old Man of Cape Horn,
Who wished he had never been born;
So he sat on a Chair till he died of despair,
That dolorous Man of Cape Horn.

There was an old Person of Cromer,
Who stood on one leg to read Homer;
When he found he grew stiff, he jumped over the cliff,
Which concluded that Person of Cromer.

There was an Old Man of the Hague,
Whose ideas were excessively vague;
He built a balloon to examine the moon,
That deluded Old Man of the Hague.

There was an Old Person of Spain,
Who hated all trouble and pain;
So he sat on a chair with his feet in the air,
That umbrageous Old Person of Spain.

There was an Old Man who said, “Well!
Will nobody answer this bell?
I have pulled day and night, till my hair has grown white,
But nobody answers this bell!”

There was an Old Man with an Owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sat on a rail, and imbibed bitter ale,
Which refreshed that Old Man and his Owl.

There was an Old Man in a casement,
Who held up his hands in amazement;
When they said, “Sir, you’ll fall!” he replied, “Not at all!”
That incipient Old Man in a casement.

There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice, he inserted some Mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.

There was an Old Man of Peru.
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair, and behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.

There was an Old 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 was a Young Lady whose eyes
Were unique as to color and size;
When she opened them wide, people all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.

There was a Young Lady of Ryde,
Whose shoestrings were seldom untied;
She purchased some clogs, and some small spotty Dogs,
And frequently walked about Ryde.

There was a Young 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!”

The Dong with a Luminous Nose

When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights;
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore⁠—

Then, through the vast and gloomy dark
There moves what seems a fiery spark⁠—
A lonely spark with silvery rays
Piercing the coal-black night⁠—
A Meteor strange and bright:
Hither and thither the vision strays,
A single lurid light.

Slowly it wanders, pauses, creeps⁠—
Anon it sparkles, flashes, and leaps;
And ever as onward it gleaming goes
A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws.
And those who watch at that midnight hour
From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along⁠—
“The Dong! the Dong!
The wandering Dong through the forest goes!
The Dong! the Dong!
The Dong with a luminous Nose!”

Long years ago
The Dong was happy and gay,
Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
Who came to those shores one day.
For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did⁠—
Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd
Where the Oblong Oysters grow,
And the rocks are smooth and gray.
And all the woods and the valleys rang
With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang⁠—
“Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a sieve.”

Happily, happily passed those days!
While the cheerful Jumblies staid;
They danced in circlets all night long,
To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong,
In moonlight, shine, or shade.
For day and night he was always there
By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
With her sky-blue hands and her sea-green hair;
Till the morning came of that hateful day
When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away,
And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing, gazing for evermore⁠—
Ever keeping his weary eyes on
That pea-green sail on the far horizon⁠—
Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
As he sat all day on the grassy hill⁠—
“Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a sieve.”

But when the sun was low in the West,
The Dong arose and said⁠—
“What little sense I once possessed
Has quite gone out of my head!”
And since that day he wanders still
By lake and forest, marsh and hill,
Singing, “O somewhere, in valley or plain,
Might I find my Jumbly Girl again!
Forever I’ll seek by lake and shore
Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!”

Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks;
And because by night he could not see,
He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree
On the flowery plain that grows.
And he wove him a wondrous Nose⁠—
A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
In a hollow rounded space it ended
With a luminous Lamp within suspended,
All fenced about
With a bandage stout
To prevent the wind from blowing it out;
And with holes all round to send the light
In gleaming rays on the dismal night

And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the Dong;
And above the wail of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the squeak of his plaintive pipe,
While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain,
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again;
Lonely and wild, all night he goes⁠—
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
And all who watch at the midnight hour,
From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright,
Moving along through the dreary night⁠—
“This is the hour when forth he goes,
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
Yonder, over the plain he goes⁠—
He goes!
He goes⁠—
The Dong with a luminous Nose!”

The Two Old Bachelors

Two old Bachelors were living in one house;
One caught a Muffin, the other caught a Mouse.
Said he who caught the Muffin to him who caught the Mouse⁠—
“This happens just in time! For we’ve nothing in the house,
Save a tiny slice of lemon and a teaspoonful of honey,
And what to do for dinner⁠—since we haven’t any money?
And what can we expect if we haven’t any dinner,
But to lose our teeth and eyelashes and keep on growing thinner?”

Said he who caught the Mouse to him who caught the Muffin⁠—
“We might cook this little Mouse, if we only had some Stuffin’!
If we had but Sage and Onion we could do extremely well;
But how to get that Stuffin’ it is difficult to tell!”

Those two old Bachelors ran quickly to the town
And asked for Sage and Onion as they wandered up and down;
They borrowed two large Onions, but no Sage was to be found
In the Shops, or in the Market, or in all the Gardens round.

But someone said, “A hill there is, a little to the north,
And to its purpledicular top a narrow way leads forth;
And there among the rugged rocks abides an ancient Sage⁠—
An earnest Man, who reads all day a most perplexing page.
Climb up, and seize him by the toes⁠—all studious as he sits⁠—
And pull him down, and chop him into endless little bits!
Then mix him with your Onion (cut up likewise into Scraps)⁠—
When your Stuffin’ will be ready, and very good⁠—perhaps.”

Those two old Bachelors without loss of time
The nearly purpledicular crags at once began to climb;
And at the top, among the rocks, all seated in a nook,
They saw that Sage a-reading of a most enormous book.

“You earnest Sage!” aloud they cried, “your book you’ve read enough in!
We wish to chop you into bits to mix you into Stuffin’!”

But that old Sage looked calmly up, and with his awful book,
At those two Bachelors’ bald heads a certain aim he took;
And over Crag and precipice they rolled promiscuous down⁠—
At once they rolled, and never stopped in lane or field or town;
And when they reached their house, they found (besides their want of Stuffin’),
The Mouse had fled⁠—and, previously, had eaten up the Muffin.

They left their home in silence by the once convivial door;
And from that hour those Bachelors were never heard of more.

The Pelicans

The Pelican Chorus

King and Queen of the Pelicans we;
No other Birds so grand we see!
None but we have feet like fins!
With lovely leathery throats and chins!
Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican Jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still

We live on the Nile. The Nile we love.
By night we sleep on the cliffs above;
By day we fish, and at eve we stand
On long bare islands of yellow sand.
And when the sun sinks slowly down,
And the great rock walls grow dark and brown,
Where the purple river rolls fast and dim
And the Ivory Ibis starlike skim,
Wing to wing we dance around,
Stamping our feet with a flumpy sound,
Opening our mouths as Pelicans ought;
And this is the song we nightly snort⁠—
Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still!

Last year came out our Daughter Dell,
And all the Birds received her well.
To do her honor a feast we made
For every bird that can swim or wade⁠—
Herons and Gulls, and Cormorants black,
Cranes, and Flamingoes with scarlet back,
Plovers and Storks, and Geese in clouds,
Swans and Dilberry Ducks in crowds:
Thousands of Birds in wondrous flight!
They ate and drank and danced all night,
And echoing back from the rocks you heard
Multitude-echoes from Bird and Bird⁠—
Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still!

Yes, they came; and among the rest
The King of the Cranes all grandly dressed.
Such a lovely tail! Its feathers float
Between the ends of his blue dress-coat;
With pea-green trousers all so neat,
And a delicate frill to hide his feet
(For though no one speaks of it, everyone knows
He has got no webs between his toes).

As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell,
In violent love that Crane King fell⁠—
On seeing her waddling form so fair,
With a wreath of shrimps in her short white hair.
And before the end of the next long day
Our Dell had given her heart away;
For the King of the Cranes had won that heart
With a Crocodile’s egg and a large fish-tart.
She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes,
Leaving the Nile for stranger plains;
And away they flew in a gathering crowd
Of endless birds in a lengthening cloud.
Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still!

And far away in the twilight sky
We heard them singing a lessening cry⁠—
Farther and farther, till out of sight,
And we stood alone in the silent night!
Often since, in the nights of June,
We sit on the sand and watch the moon⁠—
She has gone to the great Gromboolian Plain,
And we probably never shall meet again!
Oft, in the long still nights of June,
We sit on the rocks and watch the moon⁠—
She dwells by the streams of the Chankly Bore.
And we probably never shall see her more.
Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still!

Note.⁠—The Air of this and the following Song by Edward Lear; the Arrangement for the Piano by Professor Pomè, of San Remo, Italy.

The Yonghy Bonghy Bò

The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò

VIII

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow,
To the calm and silent sea
Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle.
“You’re the Cove,” he said, “for me;
On your back beyond the sea,
Turtle, you shall carry me!”
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

The Pobble Who Has No Toes

The New Vestments

There lived an old man in the Kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
He opened the door and walked into the street.

By way of a hat he’d a loaf of Brown Bread,
In the middle of which he inserted his head;
His Shirt was made up of no end of dead Mice,
The warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and nice;
His Drawers were of Rabbit-skins, so were his Shoes;
His Stockings were skins, but it is not known whose;
His Waistcoat and Trousers were made of Pork Chops;
His Buttons were Jujubes and Chocolate Drops;
His Coat was all Pancakes, with Jam for a border,
And a girdle of Biscuits to keep it in order;
And he wore over all, as a screen from bad weather,
A Cloak of green Cabbage-leaves stitched all together.

He had walked a short way, when he heard a great noise,
Of all sorts of Beasticles, Birdlings, and Boys;
And from every long street and dark lane in the town
Beasts, Birdies, and Boys in a tumult rushed down.
Two Cows and a Calf ate his Cabbage-leaf Cloak;
Four Apes seized his Girdle, which vanished like smoke;
Three Kids ate up half of his Pancaky Coat,
And the tails were devour’d by an ancient He Goat;
An army of Dogs in a twinkling tore up his
Pork Waistcoat and Trousers to give to their Puppies;
And while they were growling, and mumbling the Chops,
Ten Boys prigged the Jujubes and Chocolate Drops.
He tried to run back to his house, but in vain,
For scores of fat Pigs came again and again:
They rushed out of stables and hovels and doors;
They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawers;
And now from the housetops with screechings descend
Striped, spotted, white, black, and gray Cats without end:
They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat,
When Crows, Ducks, and Hens made a mincemeat of that;
They speedily flew at his sleeves in a trice,
And utterly tore up his Shirt of dead Mice;
They swallowed the last of his Shirt with a squall⁠—
Whereon he ran home with no clothes on at all.

And he said to himself, as he bolted the door,
“I will not wear a similar dress any more,
Any more, any more, any more, never more!”

Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos

The Quangle Wangle’s Hat

The Akond of Swat

Note.⁠—For the existence of this potentate see Indian newspapers, passim. The proper way to read the verses is to make an immense emphasis on the monosyllabic rhymes, which indeed ought to be shouted out by a chorus.

There was a young person of Bantry,
Who frequently slept in the pantry;
When disturbed by the mice, she appeased them with rice,
That judicious young person of Bantry.

There was an Old Man at a Junction,
Whose feelings were wrung with compunction
When they said, “The Train’s gone!” he exclaimed, “How forlorn!”
But remained on the rails of the Junction.

There was an old person of Minety,
Who purchased five hundred and ninety
Large apples and pears, which he threw unawares
At the heads of the people of Minety.

There was an old man of Thermopylae,
Who never did anything properly;
But they said, “If you choose to boil eggs in your shoes,
You shall never remain in Thermopylae.”

There was an old person of Deal,
Who in walking used only his heel;
When they said, “Tell us why?” he made no reply,
That mysterious old person of Deal.

There was an old man on the Humber,
Who dined on a cake of Burnt Umber;
When he said, “It’s enough!” they only said, “Stuff!
You amazing old man on the Humber!”

There was an old man in a barge,
Whose nose was exceedingly large;
But in fishing by night, it supported a light,
Which helped that old man in a barge.

There was an old man of Dunrose;
A parrot seized hold of his nose.
When he grew melancholy, they said, “His name’s Polly,”
Which soothed that old man of Dunrose.

There was an old man of Toulouse
Who purchased a new pair of shoes;
When they asked, “Are they pleasant?” he said, “Not at present!”
That turbid old man of Toulouse.

There was an old person of Bree,
Who frequented the depths of the sea;
She nurs’d the small fishes, and washed all the dishes,
And swam back again into Bree.

There was an old person of Bromley,
Whose ways were not cheerful or comely;
He sat in the dust, eating spiders and crust,
That unpleasing old person of Bromley.

There was an old person of Shields,
Who frequented the vallies and fields;
All the mice and the cats, and the snakes and the rats,
Followed after that person of Shields.

There was an old man of Dunluce,
Who went out to sea on a goose:
When he’d gone out a mile, he observ’d with a smile,
“It is time to return to Dunluce.”

There was an old man of Dee-side
Whose hat was exceedingly wide,
But he said, “Do not fail, if it happen to hail,
To come under my hat at Dee-side!”

There was an old person in black,
A Grasshopper jumped on his back;
When it chirped in his ear, he was smitten with fear,
That helpless old person in black.

There was an old man of the Dargle
Who purchased six barrels of Gargle;
For he said, “I’ll sit still, and will roll them down hill,
For the fish in the depths of the Dargle.”

There was an old person of Pinner,
As thin as a lath, if not thinner;
They dressed him in white, and roll’d him up tight,
That elastic old person of Pinner.

There was an old person of China,
Whose daughters were Jiska and Dinah,
Amelia and Fluffy, Olivia and Chuffy,
And all of them settled in China.

There was an old man in a Marsh,
Whose manners were futile and harsh;
He sat on a log, and sang songs to a frog,
That instructive old man in a Marsh.

There was an old person of Brill,
Who purchased a shirt with a frill;
But they said, “Don’t you wish, you mayn’t look like a fish,
You obsequious old person of Brill?”

There was an old person of Wick,
Who said, “Tick-a-Tick, Tick-a-Tick;
Chickabee, Chickabaw.” And he said nothing more,
That laconic old person of Wick.

There was an old man at a Station,
Who made a promiscuous oration;
But they said, “Take some snuff!⁠—You have talk’d quite enough,
You afflicting old man at a Station!”

There was an old man of Three Bridges,
Whose mind was distracted by midges,
He sat on a wheel, eating underdone veal,
Which relieved that old man of Three Bridges.

There was an old man of Hong Kong,
Who never did anything wrong;
He lay on his back, with his head in a sack,
That innocuous old man of Hong Kong.

There was a young person in green,
Who seldom was fit to be seen;
She wore a long shawl, over bonnet and all,
Which enveloped that person in green.

There was an old person of Fife,
Who was greatly disgusted with life;
They sang him a ballad, and fed him on salad,
Which cured that old person of Fife.

There was an old man who screamed out
Whenever they knocked him about:
So they took off his boots, and fed him with fruits,
And continued to knock him about.

There was a young lady in white,
Who looked out at the depths of the night;
But the birds of the air, filled her heart with despair,
And oppressed that young lady in white.

There was an old person of Slough,
Who danced at the end of a bough;
But they said, “If you sneeze, you might damage the trees,
You imprudent old person of Slough.”

There was an old person of Down,
Whose face was adorned with a frown;
When he opened the door, for one minute or more,
He alarmed all the people of Down.

There was a young person in red,
Who carefully covered her head,
With a bonnet of leather, and three lines of feather,
Besides some long ribbons of red.

There was an old person of Hove,
Who frequented the depths of a grove;
Where he studied his books, with the wrens and the rooks,
That tranquil old person of Hove.

There was a young person in pink,
Who called out for something to drink;
But they said, “O my daughter, there’s nothing but water!”
Which vexed that young person in pink.

There was an old lady of France,
Who taught little ducklings to dance;
When she said, “Tick-a-tack!” they only said, “Quack!”
Which grieved that old lady of France.

There was an old person of Putney,
Whose food was roast spiders and chutney,
Which he took with his tea, within sight of the sea,
That romantic old person of Putney.

There was an old person of Loo,
Who said, “What on earth shall I do?”
When they said, “Go away!” she continued to stay,
That vexatious old person of Loo.

There was an old person of Woking,
Whose mind was perverse and provoking;
He sat on a rail, with his head in a pail,
That illusive old person of Woking.

There was an old person of Dean
Who dined on one pea, and one bean;
For he said, “More than that, would make me too fat,”
That cautious old person of Dean.

There was a young lady in blue,
Who said, “Is it you? Is it you?”
When they said, “Yes, it is,” she replied only, “Whizz!”
That ungracious young lady in blue.

There was an old Man in a Garden,
Who always begged everyone’s pardon;
When they asked him, “What for?” he replied, “You’re a bore!
And I trust you’ll go out of my garden.”

There was an old person of Pisa,
Whose daughters did nothing to please her;
She dressed them in gray, and banged them all day,
Round the walls of the city of Pisa.

There was an old person of Florence,
Who held mutton chops in abhorrence;
He purchased a Bustard, and fried him in Mustard,
Which choked that old person of Florence.

There was an old person of Sheen,
Whose expression was calm and serene;
He sat in the water, and drank bottled porter,
That placid old person of Sheen.

There was an old person of Ware,
Who rode on the back of a bear;
When they ask’d, “Does it trot?” he said, “Certainly not!
He’s a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear!”

There was a young person of Janina,
Whose uncle was always a fanning her;
When he fanned off her head, she smiled sweetly, and said,
“You propitious old person of Janina!”

There was an old man of Cashmere,
Whose movements were scroobious and queer;
Being slender and tall, he looked over a wall,
And perceived two fat ducks of Cashmere.

There was an old person of Cassel,
Whose nose finished off in a tassel;
But they call’d out, “Oh well! don’t it look like a bell!”
Which perplexed that old person of Cassel.

There was an old person of Pett,
Who was partly consumed by regret;
He sat in a cart, and ate cold apple tart,
Which relieved that old person of Pett.

There was an old man of Spithead,
Who opened the window, and said⁠—
“Fil-jomble, fil-jumble, fil-rumble-come-tumble!”
That doubtful old man of Spithead.

There was an old man on the Border,
Who lived in the utmost disorder;
He danced with the cat, and made tea in his hat,
Which vexed all the folks on the Border.

There was an old man of Dumbree,
Who taught little owls to drink tea;
For he said, “To eat mice is not proper or nice,”
That amiable man of Dumbree.

There was an old person of Filey,
Of whom his acquaintance spoke highly;
He danced perfectly well, to the sound of a bell,
And delighted the people of Filey.

There was an old man whose remorse
Induced him to drink Caper Sauce;
For they said, “If mixed up with some cold claret-cup,
It will certainly soothe your remorse!”

There was an old man of Ibreem,
Who suddenly threaten’d to scream;
But they said, “If you do, we will thump you quite blue,
You disgusting old man of Ibreem!”

There was an old person of Wilts,
Who constantly walked upon stilts;
He wreathed them with lilies and daffy-down-dillies,
That elegant person of Wilts.

There was an old person of Grange,
Whose manners were scroobious and strange;
He sailed to St. Blubb in a waterproof tub,
That aquatic old person of Grange.

There was an old person of Newry,
Whose manners were tinctured with fury;
He tore all the rugs, and broke all the jugs,
Within twenty miles’ distance of Newry.

There was an old man of Dumblane,
Who greatly resembled a crane;
But they said, “Is it wrong, since your legs are so long,
To request you won’t stay in Dumblane?”

There was an old man of Port Grigor,
Whose actions were noted for vigour;
He stood on his head till his waistcoat turned red,
That eclectic old man of Port Grigor.

There was an old man of El Hums,
Who lived upon nothing but crumbs,
Which he picked off the ground, with the other birds round,
In the roads and the lanes of El Hums.

There was an old man of West Dumpet,
Who possessed a large nose like a trumpet;
When he blew it aloud, it astonished the crowd,
And was heard through the whole of West Dumpet.

There was an old person of Sark,
Who made an unpleasant remark;
But they said, “Don’t you see what a brute you must be,
You obnoxious old person of Sark!”

There was an old man whose despair
Induced him to purchase a hare:
Whereon one fine day he rode wholly away,
Which partly assuaged his despair.

There was an old person of Barnes,
Whose garments were covered with darns;
But they said, “Without doubt, you will soon wear them out,
You luminous person of Barnes!”

There was an old person of Nice,
Whose associates were usually Geese.
They walked out together in all sorts of weather,
That affable person of Nice!

There was a young lady of Greenwich,
Whose garments were border’d with Spinach;
But a large spotty Calf bit her shawl quite in half,
Which alarmed that young lady of Greenwich.

There was an old person of Cannes,
Who purchased three fowls and a fan;
Those she placed on a stool, and to make them feel cool
She constantly fanned them at Cannes.

There was an old person of Ickley,
Who could not abide to ride quickly;
He rode to Karnak on a tortoise’s back,
That moony old person of Ickley.

There was an old person of Hyde,
Who walked by the shore with his bride,
Till a Crab who came near fill’d their bosoms with fear,
And they said, “Would we’d never left Hyde!”

There was an old person in gray,
Whose feelings were tinged with dismay;
She purchased two parrots, and fed them with carrots,
Which pleased that old person in gray.

There was an old man of Ancona,
Who found a small dog with no owner,
Which he took up and down all the streets of the town,
That anxious old man of Ancona.

There was an old person of Sestri,
Who sat himself down in the vestry;
When they said, “You are wrong!” he merely said “Bong!”
That repulsive old person of Sestri.

There was an old person of Blythe,
Who cut up his meat with a scythe;
When they said, “Well! I never!” he cried, “Scythes forever!”
That lively old person of Blythe.

There was a young person of Ayr,
Whose head was remarkably square:
On the top, in fine weather, she wore a gold feather;
Which dazzled the people of Ayr.

There was an old person of Rimini,
Who said, “Gracious! Goodness! O Gimini!”
When they said, “Please be still!” she ran down a hill,
And was never more heard of at Rimini.

There is a young lady, whose nose,
Continually prospers and grows;
When it grew out of sight, she exclaimed in a fright,
“Oh! Farewell to the end of my nose!”

There was an old person of Ealing,
Who was wholly devoid of good feeling;
He drove a small gig, with three Owls and a Pig,
Which distressed all the people of Ealing.

There was an old man of Thames Ditton,
Who called out for something to sit on;
But they brought him a hat, and said, “Sit upon that,
You abruptious old man of Thames Ditton!”

There was an old person of Bray,
Who sang through the whole of the day
To his ducks and his pigs, whom he fed upon figs,
That valuable person of Bray.

There was a young person whose history
Was always considered a mystery;
She sat in a ditch, although no one knew which,
And composed a small treatise on history.

There was an old person of Bow,
Whom nobody happened to know;
So they gave him some soap, and said coldly, “We hope
You will go back directly to Bow!”

There was an old person of Rye,
Who went up to town on a fly;
But they said, “If you cough, you are safe to fall off!
You abstemious old person of Rye!”

There was an old person of Crowle,
Who lived in the nest of an owl;
When they screamed in the nest, he screamed out with the rest,
That depressing old person of Crowle.

There was an old Lady of Winchelsea,
Who said, “If you needle or pin shall see
On the floor of my room, sweep it up with the broom!”
That exhaustive old Lady of Winchelsea!

There was an old man in a tree,
Whose whiskers were lovely to see;
But the birds of the air pluck’d them perfectly bare,
To make themselves nests in that tree.

There was a young lady of Corsica,
Who purchased a little brown saucy-cur;
Which she fed upon ham, and hot raspberry jam,
That expensive young lady of Corsica.

There was a young lady of Firle,
Whose hair was addicted to curl;
It curled up a tree, and all over the sea,
That expansive young lady of Firle.

There was an old person of Stroud,
Who was horribly jammed in a crowd;
Some she slew with a kick, some she scrunched with a stick,
That impulsive old person of Stroud.

There was an old man of Boulak,
Who sat on a Crocodile’s back;
But they said, “Towr’ds the night he may probably bite,
Which might vex you, old man of Boulak!”

There was an old person of Skye,
Who waltz’d with a Bluebottle fly:
They buzz’d a sweet tune, to the light of the moon,
And entranced all the people of Skye.

There was an old man of Blackheath,
Whose head was adorned with a wreath
Of lobsters and spice, pickled onions and mice,
That uncommon old man of Blackheath.

There was an old man, who when little
Fell casually into a kettle;
But, growing too stout, he could never get out,
So he passed all his life in that kettle.

There was an old person of Dundalk,
Who tried to teach fishes to walk;
When they tumbled down dead, he grew weary, and said,
“I had better go back to Dundalk!”

There was an old person of Shoreham,
Whose habits were marked by decorum;
He bought an Umbrella, and sat in the cellar,
Which pleased all the people of Shoreham.

There was an old person of Bar,
Who passed all her life in a jar,
Which she painted pea-green, to appear more serene,
That placid old person of Bar.

There was a young person of Kew,
Whose virtues and vices were few;
But with blamable haste she devoured some hot paste,
Which destroyed that young person of Kew.

There was an old person of Jodd,
Whose ways were perplexing and odd;
She purchased a whistle, and sat on a thistle,
And squeaked to the people of Jodd.

There was an old person of Bude,
Whose deportment was vicious and crude;
He wore a large ruff of pale straw-colored stuff,
Which perplexed all the people of Bude.

There was an old person of Brigg,
Who purchased no end of a wig;
So that only his nose, and the end of his toes,
Could be seen when he walked about Brigg.

There was an old man of Messina,
Whose daughter was named Opsibeena;
She wore a small wig, and rode out on a pig,
To the perfect delight of Messina.

The Absolutely Abstemious Ass,
who resided in a Barrel, and only lived on
Soda Water and Pickled Cucumbers.

The Bountiful Beetle,
who always carried a Green Umbrella when it didn’t rain,
and left it at home when it did.

The Comfortable Confidential Cow,
who sat in her Red Morocco Arm Chair and
toasted her own Bread at the parlour Fire.

The Dolomphious Duck,
who caught Spotted Frogs for her dinner
with a Runcible Spoon.

The Enthusiastic Elephant,
who ferried himself across the water with the
Kitchen Poker and a New pair of Earrings.

The Fizzgiggious Fish,
who always walked about upon Stilts,
because he had no legs.

The Good-natured Grey Gull,
who carried the Old Owl, and his Crimson Carpetbag,
across the river, because he could not swim.

The Hasty Higgeldipiggledy Hen,
who went to market in a Blue Bonnet and Shawl,
and bought a Fish for her Supper.

The Inventive Indian,
who caught a Remarkable Rabbit in a
Stupendous Silver Spoon.

The Judicious Jubilant Jay,
who did up her Back Hair every morning with a Wreath of Roses,
Three feathers, and a Gold Pin.

The Kicking Kangaroo,
who wore a Pale Pink Muslin dress
with Blue spots.

The Lively Learned Lobster,
who mended his own Clothes with
a Needle and Thread.

The Melodious Meritorious Mouse,
who played a merry minuet on the
Pianoforte.

The Nutritious Newt,
who purchased a Round Plum-pudding
for his granddaughter.

The Obsequious Ornamental Ostrich,
who wore Boots to keep his
feet quite dry.

The Perpendicular Purple Polly,
who read the Newspaper and ate Parsnip Pie
with his Spectacles.

The Queer Querulous Quail,
who smoked a Pipe of tobacco on the top of
a Tin Teakettle.

The Rural Runcible Raven,
who wore a White Wig and flew away
with the Carpet Broom.

The Scroobious Snake,
who always wore a Hat on his Head, for
fear he should bite anybody.

The Tumultuous Tom-tommy Tortoise,
who beat a Drum all day long in the
middle of the wilderness.

The Umbrageous Umbrella-maker,
whose Face nobody ever saw, because it was
always covered by his Umbrella.

The Visibly Vicious Vulture,
who wrote some Verses to a Veal-cutlet in a
Volume bound in Vellum.

The Worrying Whizzing Wasp,
who stood on a Table, and played sweetly on a
Flute with a Morning Cap.

The Excellent Double-extra XX
imbibing King Xerxes, who lived a
long while ago.

The Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
whose Head was ever so much bigger than his
Body, and whose Hat was rather small.

The Zigzag Zealous Zebra,
who carried five Monkeys on his back all
the way to Jellibolee.

The Owl and the Pussycat

II

Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III

“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

The Duck and the Kangaroo

II

“Please give me a ride on your back,”
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo:
“I would sit quite still, and say nothing but ‘Quack’
The whole of the long day through;
And we’d go the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea:
Please take me a ride! oh, do!”
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

V

Said the Kangaroo, “I’m ready,
All in the moonlight pale;
But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady,
And quite at the end of my tail.”

So away they went with a hop and a bound;
And they hopped the whole world three times round.
And who so happy, oh! who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?

The Daddy Long-Legs and the Fly

VII

Then Mr. Daddy Long-legs
And Mr. Floppy Fly
Rushed downward to the foamy sea
With one sponge-taneous cry:
And there they found a little boat,
Whose sails were pink and gray;
And off they sailed among the waves,
Far and far away:
They sailed across the silent main,
And reached the great Gromboolian Plain;
And there they play forevermore
At battlecock and shuttledore.

The Jumblies

The Nutcrackers and the Sugar-Tongs

Calico Pie

I

Calico pie,
The little birds fly
Down to the calico-tree:
Their wings were blue,
And they sang “Tilly-loo!”
Till away they flew;
And they never came back to me!
They never came back,
They never came back,
They never came back to me!

II

Calico jam,
The little Fish swam
Over the Syllabub Sea.
He took off his hat
To the Sole and the Sprat,
And the Willeby-wat:

But he never came back to me;
He never came back,
He never came back,
He never came back to me.

III

Calico ban,
The little Mice ran
To be ready in time for tea;
Flippity flup,
They drank it all up,
And danced in the cup:
But they never came back to me;
They never came back,
They never came back,
They never came back to me

IV

Calico drum,
The Grasshoppers come,
The Butterfly, Beetle, and Bee,
Over the ground,
Around and round,
With a hop and a bound;

But they never came back,
They never came back,
They never came back.
They never came back to me.

Mr. and Mrs. Spikky Sparrow

VII

Then, when so completely dressed,
Back they flew, and reached their nest.
Their children cried, “O ma and pa!
How truly beautiful you are!”
Said they, “We trust that cold or pain
We shall never feel again;
While, perched on tree or house or steeple,
We now shall look like other people.
Witchy witchy witchy wee,
Twikky mikky bikky bee,
Zikky sikky tee!”

The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker, and the Tongs

IV

Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
“What nonsense you’re singing today!”
Said the Shovel, “I’ll certainly hit you a bang!”
Said the Broom, “And I’ll sweep you away!”
So the coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain;
But they put on the kettle, and little by little
They all became happy again.
Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong!
There’s an end of my song.

The Table and the Chair

IV

But in going down an alley,
To a castle in a valley,
They completely lost their way,
And wandered all the day;
Till, to see them safely back,
They paid a Ducky-quack,
And a Beetle, and a Mouse,
Who took them to their house.

V

Then they whispered to each other,
“O delightful little brother,
What a lovely walk we’ve taken!
Let us dine on beans and bacon.”
So the Ducky and the leetle
Browny-Mousy and the Beetle
Dined, and danced upon their heads
Till they toddled to their beds.

The Story of the Four Little Children Who Went Round the World

Once upon a time, a long while ago, there were four little people whose names were

and they all thought they should like to see the world. So they bought a large boat to sail quite round the world by sea, and then they were to come back on the other side by land. The boat was painted blue with green spots, and the sail was yellow with red stripes: and, when they set off, they only took a small Cat to steer and look after the boat, besides an elderly Quangle-Wangle, who had to cook the dinner and make the tea; for which purposes they took a large kettle.

For the first ten days they sailed on beautifully, and found plenty to eat, as there were lots of fish; and they had only to take them out of the sea with a long spoon, when the Quangle-Wangle instantly cooked them; and the Pussycat was fed with the bones, with which she expressed herself pleased, on the whole: so that all the party were very happy.

During the daytime, Violet chiefly occupied herself in putting salt water into a churn; while her three brothers churned it violently, in the hope that it would turn into butter, which it seldom if ever did; and in the evening they all retired into the teakettle, where they all managed to sleep very comfortably, while Pussy and the Quangle-Wangle managed the boat.

After a time, they saw some land at a distance; and, when they came to it, they found it was an island made of water quite surrounded by earth. Besides that, it was bordered by evanescent isthmuses, with a great gulf-stream running about all over it; so that it was perfectly beautiful, and contained only a single tree, 503 feet high.

When they had landed, they walked about, but found, to their great surprise, that the island was quite full of veal-cutlets and chocolate-drops, and nothing else. So they all climbed up the single high tree to discover, if possible, if there were any people; but having remained on the top of the tree for a week, and not seeing anybody, they naturally concluded that there were no inhabitants; and accordingly, when they came down, they loaded the boat with two thousand veal-cutlets and a million of chocolate-drops; and these afforded them sustenance for more than a month, during which time they pursued their voyage with the utmost delight and apathy.

After this they came to a shore where there were no less than sixty-five great red parrots with blue tails, sitting on a rail all of a row, and all fast asleep. And I am sorry to say that the Pussycat and the Quangle-Wangle crept softly, and bit off the tail-feathers of all the sixty-five parrots; for which Violet reproved them both severely.

Notwithstanding which, she proceeded to insert all the feathers⁠—two hundred and sixty in number⁠—in her bonnet; thereby causing it to have a lovely and glittering appearance, highly prepossessing and efficacious.

The next thing that happened to them was in a narrow part of the sea, which was so entirely full of fishes that the boat could go on no farther: so they remained there about six weeks, till they had eaten nearly all the fishes, which were soles, and all ready-cooked, and covered with shrimp-sauce, so that there was no trouble whatever.

And as the few fishes who remained uneaten complained of the cold, as well as of the difficulty they had in getting any sleep on account of the extreme noise made by the arctic bears and the tropical turnspits, which frequented the neighborhood in great numbers, Violet most amiably knitted a small woollen frock for several of the fishes, and Slingsby administered some opium-drops to them; through which kindness they became quite warm, and slept soundly.

Then they came to a country which was wholly covered with immense orange-trees of a vast size, and quite full of fruit. So they all landed, taking with them the teakettle, intending to gather some of the oranges, and place them in it. But, while they were busy about this, a most dreadfully high wind rose, and blew out most of the parrot-tail feathers from Violet’s bonnet. That, however, was nothing compared with the calamity of the oranges falling down on their heads by millions and millions, which thumped and bumped and bumped and thumped them all so seriously, that they were obliged to run as hard as they could for their lives; besides that the sound of the oranges rattling on the teakettle was of the most fearful and amazing nature.

Nevertheless, they got safely to the boat, although considerably vexed and hurt; and the Quangle-Wangle’s right foot was so knocked about, that he had to sit with his head in his slipper for at least a week.

This event made them all for a time rather melancholy: and perhaps they might never have become less so, had not Lionel, with a most praiseworthy devotion and perseverance, continued to stand on one leg, and whistle to them in a loud and lively manner; which diverted the whole party so extremely that they gradually recovered their spirits, and agreed that whenever they should reach home, they would subscribe towards a testimonial to Lionel, entirely made of gingerbread and raspberries, as an earnest token of their sincere and grateful infection.

After sailing on calmly for several more days, they came to another country, where they were much pleased and surprised to see a countless multitude of white Mice with red eyes, all sitting in a great circle, slowly eating custard-pudding with the most satisfactory and polite demeanor.

And as the four travellers were rather hungry, being tired of eating nothing but soles and oranges for so long a period, they held a council as to the propriety of asking the Mice for some of their pudding in a humble and affecting manner, by which they could hardly be otherwise than gratified. It was agreed, therefore, that Guy should go and ask the Mice, which he immediately did; and the result was, that they gave a walnut-shell only half full of custard diluted with water. Now, this displeased Guy, who said, “Out of such a lot of pudding as you have got, I must say, you might have spared a somewhat larger quantity.” But no sooner had he finished speaking than the Mice turned round at once, and sneezed at him in an appalling and vindictive manner (and it is impossible to imagine a more scroobious and unpleasant sound than that caused by the simultaneous sneezing of many millions of angry Mice); so that Guy rushed back to the boat, having first shied his cap into the middle of the custard-pudding, by which means he completely spoiled the Mice’s dinner.

By and by the four children came to a country where there were no houses, but only an incredibly innumerable number of large bottles without corks, and of a dazzling and sweetly susceptible blue color. Each of these blue bottles contained a Bluebottle-Fly; and all these interesting animals live continually together in the most copious and rural harmony: nor perhaps in many parts of the world is such perfect and abject happiness to be found. Violet and Slingsby and Guy and Lionel were greatly struck with this singular and instructive settlement; and, having previously asked permission of the Bluebottle-Flies (which was most courteously granted), the boat was drawn up to the shore, and they proceeded to make tea in front of the bottles: but as they had no tea-leaves, they merely placed some pebbles in the hot water; and the Quangle-Wangle played some tunes over it on an accordion, by which, of course, tea was made directly, and of the very best quality.

The four children then entered into conversation with the Bluebottle-Flies, who discoursed in a placid and genteel manner, though with a slightly buzzing accent, chiefly owing to the fact that they each held a small clothes-brush between their teeth, which naturally occasioned a fizzy, extraneous utterance.

“Why,” said Violet, “would you kindly inform us, do you reside in bottles; and, if in bottles at all, why not, rather, in green or purple, or, indeed, in yellow bottles?”

To which questions a very aged Bluebottle-Fly answered, “We found the bottles here all ready to live in; that is to say, our great-great-great-great-great-grandfathers did: so we occupied them at once. And, when the winter comes on, we turn the bottles upside down, and consequently rarely feel the cold at all; and you know very well that this could not be the case with bottles of any other color than blue.”

“Of course it could not,” said Slingsby. “But, if we may take the liberty of inquiring, on what do you chiefly subsist?”

“Mainly on oyster-patties,” said the Bluebottle-Fly; “and, when these are scarce, on raspberry vinegar and Russian leather boiled down to a jelly.”

“How delicious!” said Guy.

To which Lionel added, “Huzz!” And all the Bluebottle-Flies said, “Buzz!”

At this time, an elderly Fly said it was the hour for the evening-song to be sung; and, on a signal being given, all the Bluebottle-Flies began to buzz at once in a sumptuous and sonorous manner, the melodious and mucilaginous sounds echoing all over the waters, and resounding across the tumultuous tops of the transitory titmice upon the intervening and verdant mountains with a serene and sickly suavity only known to the truly virtuous. The Moon was shining slobaciously from the star-bespangled sky, while her light irrigated the smooth and shiny sides and wings and backs of the Bluebottle-Flies with a peculiar and trivial splendor, while all Nature cheerfully responded to the cerulean and conspicuous circumstances.

In many long-after years, the four little travellers looked back to that evening as one of the happiest in all their lives; and it was already past midnight when⁠—the sail of the boat having been set up by the Quangle-Wangle, the teakettle and churn placed in their respective positions, and the Pussycat stationed at the helm⁠—the children each took a last and affectionate farewell of the Bluebottle-Flies, who walked down in a body to the water’s edge to see the travellers embark.

As a token of parting respect and esteem, Violet made a courtesy quite down to the ground, and stuck one of her few remaining parrot-tail feathers into the back hair of the most pleasing of the Bluebottle-Flies; while Slingsby, Guy, and Lionel offered them three small boxes, containing, respectively, black pins, dried figs, and Epsom salts; and thus they left that happy shore forever.

Overcome by their feelings, the four little travellers instantly jumped into the teakettle, and fell fast asleep. But all along the shore, for many hours, there was distinctly heard a sound of severely-suppressed sobs, and of a vague multitude of living creatures using their pocket-handkerchiefs in a subdued simultaneous snuffle, lingering sadly along the walloping waves as the boat sailed farther and farther away from the Land of the Happy Bluebottle-Flies.

Nothing particular occurred for some days after these events, except that, as the travellers were passing a low tract of sand, they perceived an unusual and gratifying spectacle; namely, a large number of Crabs and Crawfish⁠—perhaps six or seven hundred⁠—sitting by the waterside, and endeavoring to disentangle a vast heap of pale pink worsted, which they moistened at intervals with a fluid composed of lavender-water and white-wine negus.

“Can we be of any service to you, O crusty Crabbies?” said the four children.

“Thank you kindly,” said the Crabs consecutively. “We are trying to make some worsted mittens, but do not know how.”

On which Violet, who was perfectly acquainted with the art of mitten-making, said to the Crabs, “Do your claws unscrew, or are they fixtures?”

“They are all made to unscrew,” said the Crabs; and forthwith they deposited a great pile of claws close to the boat, with which Violet uncombed all the pale pink worsted, and then made the loveliest mittens with it you can imagine. These the Crabs, having resumed and screwed on their claws, placed cheerfully upon their wrists, and walked away rapidly on their hind-legs, warbling songs with a silvery voice and in a minor key.

After this, the four little people sailed on again till they came to a vast and wide plain of astonishing dimensions, on which nothing whatever could be discovered at first; but, as the travellers walked onward, there appeared in the extreme and dim distance a single object, which on a nearer approach, and on an accurately cutaneous inspection, seemed to be somebody in a large white wig, sitting on an armchair made of sponge-cakes and oyster-shells. “It does not quite look like a human being,” said Violet doubtfully; nor could they make out what it really was, till the Quangle-Wangle (who had previously been round the world) exclaimed softly in a loud voice, “It is the cooperative Cauliflower!”

And so, in truth, it was: and they soon found that what they had taken for an immense wig was in reality the top of the Cauliflower; and that he had no feet at all, being able to walk tolerably well with a fluctuating and graceful movement on a single cabbage-stalk⁠—an accomplishment which naturally saved him the expense of stockings and shoes.

Presently, while the whole party from the boat was gazing at him with mingled affection and disgust, he suddenly arose, and, in a somewhat plumdomphious manner, hurried off towards the setting sun⁠—his steps supported by two superincumbent confidential Cucumbers, and a large number of Waterwagtails proceeding in advance of him by three and three in a row⁠—till he finally disappeared on the brink of the western sky in a crystal cloud of sudorific sand.

So remarkable a sight, of course, impressed the four children very deeply; and they returned immediately to their boat with a strong sense of undeveloped asthma and a great appetite.

Shortly after this, the travellers were obliged to sail directly below some high overhanging rocks, from the top of one of which a particularly odious little boy, dressed in rose-colored knickerbockers, and with a pewter plate upon his head, threw an enormous pumpkin at the boat, by which it was instantly upset.

But this upsetting was of no consequence, because all the party knew how to swim very well: and, in fact, they preferred swimming about till after the moon rose; when, the water growing chilly, they sponge-taneously entered the boat. Meanwhile the Quangle-Wangle threw back the pumpkin with immense force, so that it hit the rocks where the malicious little boy in rose-colored knickerbockers was sitting; when, being quite full of lucifer-matches, the pumpkin exploded surreptitiously into a thousand bits; whereon the rocks instantly took fire, and the odious little boy became unpleasantly hotter and hotter and hotter, till his knickerbockers were turned quite green, and his nose was burnt off.

Two or three days after this had happened, they came to another place, where they found nothing at all except some wide and deep pits full of mulberry-jam. This is the property of the tiny, yellow-nosed Apes who abound in these districts, and who store up the mulberry-jam for their food in winter, when they mix it with pellucid pale periwinkle-soup, and serve it out in wedgewood china-bowls, which grow freely all over that part of the country. Only one of the yellow-nosed Apes was on the spot, and he was fast asleep; yet the four travellers and the Quangle-Wangle and Pussy were so terrified by the violence and sanguinary sound of his snoring, that they merely took a small cupful of the jam, and returned to re-embark in their boat without delay.

What was their horror on seeing the boat (including the churn and the teakettle) in the mouth of an enormous Seeze Pyder, an aquatic and ferocious creature truly dreadful to behold, and, happily, only met with in those excessive longitudes! In a moment, the beautiful boat was bitten into fifty-five thousand million hundred billion bits; and it instantly became quite clear that Violet, Slingsby, Guy, and Lionel could no longer preliminate their voyage by sea.

The four travellers were therefore obliged to resolve on pursuing their wanderings by land: and, very fortunately, there happened to pass by at that moment an elderly Rhinoceros, on which they seized; and, all four mounting on his back⁠—the Quangle-Wangle sitting on his horn, and holding on by his ears, and the Pussycat swinging at the end of his tail⁠—they set off, having only four small beans and three pounds of mashed potatoes to last through their whole journey.

They were, however, able to catch numbers of the chickens and turkeys and other birds who incessantly alighted on the head of the Rhinoceros for the purpose of gathering the seeds of the rhododendron-plants which grew there; and these creatures they cooked in the most translucent and satisfactory manner by means of a fire lighted on the end of the Rhinoceros’s back. A crowd of Kangaroos and gigantic Cranes accompanied them, from feelings of curiosity and complacency; so that they were never at a loss for company, and went onward, as it were, in a sort of profuse and triumphant procession.

Thus in less than eighteen weeks they all arrived safely at home, where they were received by their admiring relatives with joy tempered with contempt, and where they finally resolved to carry out the rest of their travelling-plans at some more favorable opportunity.

As for the Rhinoceros, in token of their grateful adherence, they had him killed and stuffed directly, and then set him up outside the door of their father’s house as a diaphanous doorscraper.

The History of the Seven Families of the Lake Pipple-Popple

Chapter II

The Seven Families

There was a family of two old Parrots and seven young Parrots.

There was a family of two old Storks and seven young Storks.

There was a family of two old Geese and seven young Geese.

There was a family of two old Owls and seven young Owls.

There was a family of two old Guinea Pigs and seven young Guinea Pigs.

There was a family of two old Cats and seven young Cats.

And there was a family of two old Fishes and seven young Fishes.

Chapter V

The History of the Seven Young Parrots

The seven young Parrots had not gone far, when they saw a tree with a single cherry on it, which the oldest Parrot picked instantly; but the other six, being extremely hungry, tried to get it also. On which all the seven began to fight; and they
scuffled,
and ruffled,
and shuffled,
and puffled,
and muffled,
and buffled,
and duffled,
and fluffled,
and guffled,
and bruffled, and
screamed, and shrieked, and squealed,
and squeaked, and clawed, and snapped, and bit, and bumped, and thumped, and dumped, and flumped each other, till they were all torn into little bits; and at last there was nothing left to record this painful incident except the cherry and seven small green feathers.

And that was the vicious and voluble end of the seven young Parrots.

Chapter VI

The History of the Seven Young Storks

When the seven young Storks set out, they walked or flew for fourteen weeks in a straight line, and for six weeks more in a crooked one; and after that they ran as hard as they could for one hundred and eight miles; and after that they stood still, and made a himmeltanious chatter-clatter-blattery noise with their bills.

About the same time they perceived a large frog, spotted with green, and with a sky-blue stripe under each ear.

So, being hungry, they immediately flew at him, and were going to divide him into seven pieces, when they began to quarrel as to which of his legs should be taken off first. One said this, and another said that; and while they were all quarrelling, the frog hopped away. And when they saw that he was gone, they began to
chatter-clatter,
blatter-platter,
patter-blatter,
matter-clatter,
flatter-quatter,
more violently than ever; and after they had fought for a week, they pecked each other all to little pieces, so that at last nothing was left of any of them except their bills.

And that was the end of the seven young Storks.

Chapter VII

The History of the Seven Young Geese

When the seven young Geese began to travel, they went over a large plain, on which there was but one tree, and that was, a very bad one.

So four of them went up to the top of it, and looked about them; while the other three waddled up and down, and repeated poetry, and their last six lessons in arithmetic, geography, and cookery.

Presently they perceived, a long way off, an object of the most interesting and obese appearance, having a perfectly round body exactly resembling a boiled plum-pudding, with two little wings, and a beak, and three feathers growing out of his head, and only one leg.

So, after a time, all the seven young Geese said to each other, “Beyond all doubt this beast must be a Plum-pudding Flea!”

On which they incautiously began to sing aloud,

“Plum-pudding Flea,
Plum-pudding Flea,
Wherever you be,
Oh! come to our tree,
And listen, oh! listen, oh! listen to me!”

And no sooner had they sung this verse than the Plum-pudding Flea began to hop and skip on his one leg with the most dreadful velocity, and came straight to the tree, where he stopped, and looked about him in a vacant and voluminous manner.

On which the seven young Geese were greatly alarmed, and all of a tremble-bemble: so one of them put out his long neck, and just touched him with the tip of his bill; but no sooner had he done this than the Plum-pudding Flea skipped and hopped about more and more, and higher and higher; after which he opened his mouth, and, to the great surprise and indignation of the seven Geese, began to bark so loudly and furiously and terribly, that they were totally unable to bear the noise; and by degrees every one of them suddenly tumbled down quite dead.

So that was the end of the seven young Geese.

Chapter VIII

The History of the Seven Young Owls

When the seven young Owls set out, they sat every now and then on the branches of old trees, and never went far at one time.

And one night, when it was quite dark, they thought they heard a mouse; but, as the gas-lamps were not lighted, they could not see him.

So they called out, “Is that a mouse?”

On which a mouse answered, “Squeaky-peeky-weeky! yes, it is!”

And immediately all the young Owls threw themselves off the tree, meaning to alight on the ground; but they did not perceive that there was a large well below them, into which they all fell superficially, and were every one of them drowned in less than half a minute.

So that was the end of the seven young Owls.

Chapter IX

The History of the Seven Young Guinea Pigs

The seven young Guinea Pigs went into a garden full of gooseberry-bushes and tiggory-trees, under one of which they fell asleep. When they awoke, they saw a large lettuce, which had grown out of the ground while they had been sleeping, and which had an immense number of green leaves. At which they all exclaimed⁠—

“Lettuce! O lettuce
Let us, O let us,
O lettuce-leaves,
O let us leave this tree, and eat
Lettuce, O let us, lettuce-leaves!”

And instantly the seven young Guinea Pigs rushed with such extreme force against the lettuce-plant, and hit their heads so vividly against its stalk, that the concussion brought on directly an incipient transitional inflammation of their noses, which grew worse and worse and worse and worse, till it incidentally killed them all seven.

And that was the end of the seven young Guinea Pigs.

Chapter X

The History of the Seven Young Cats

The seven young Cats set off on their travels with great delight and rapacity. But, on coming to the top of a high hill, they perceived at a long distance off a Clangle-Wangle (or, as it is more properly written, Clangel-Wangel); and, in spite of the warning they had had, they ran straight up to it.

(Now, the Clangle-Wangle is a most dangerous and delusive beast, and by no means commonly to be met with. They live in the water as well as on land, using their long tail as a sail when in the former element. Their speed is extreme; but their habits of life are domestic and superfluous, and their general demeanor pensive and pellucid. On summer evenings, they may sometimes be observed near the Lake Pipple-Popple, standing on their heads, and humming their national melodies. They subsist entirely on vegetables, excepting when they eat veal or mutton or pork or beef or fish or saltpetre.)

The moment the Clangle-Wangle saw the seven young Cats approach, he ran away; and as he ran straight on for four months, and the Cats, though they continued to run, could never overtake him, they all gradually died of fatigue and exhaustion, and never afterwards recovered.

And this was the end of the seven young Cats.

Chapter XI

The History of the Seven Young Fishes

The seven young Fishes swam across the Lake Pipple-Popple, and into the river, and into the ocean; where, most unhappily for them, they saw, on the fifteenth day of their travels, a bright-blue Boss-Woss, and instantly swam after him. But the Blue Boss-Woss plunged into a
perpendicular,
spicular,
orbicular,
quadrangular,
circular depth of soft mud; where, in fact, his house was.

And the seven young Fishes, swimming with great and uncomfortable velocity, plunged also into the mud quite against their will, and, not being accustomed to it, were all suffocated in a very short period.

And that was the end of the seven young Fishes.

Chapter XII

Of What Occurred Subsequently

After it was known that the
seven young Parrots,
and the seven young Storks,
and the seven young Geese,
and the seven young Owls,
and the seven young Guinea Pigs,
and the seven young Cats,
and the seven young Fishes,
were all dead, then the Frog, and the Plum-pudding Flea, and the Mouse, and the Clangle-Wangle, and the Blue Boss-Woss, all met together to rejoice over their good fortune. And they collected the seven feathers of the seven young Parrots, and the seven bills of the seven young Storks, and the lettuce, and the cherry; and having placed the latter on the lettuce, and the other objects in a circular arrangement at their base, they danced a hornpipe round all these memorials until they were quite tired; after which they gave a tea-party, and a garden-party, and a ball, and a concert, and then returned to their respective homes full of joy and respect, sympathy, satisfaction, and disgust.

Chapter XIV

Conclusion

And after this they filled the bottles with the ingredients for pickling, and each couple jumped into a separate bottle; by which effort, of course, they all died immediately, and became thoroughly pickled in a few minutes; having previously made their wills (by the assistance of the most eminent lawyers of the district), in which they left strict orders that the stoppers of the seven bottles should be carefully sealed up with the blue sealing-wax they had purchased; and that they themselves, in the bottles, should be presented to the principal museum of the city of Tosh, to be labelled with parchment or any other anti-congenial succedaneum, and to be placed on a marble table with silver-gilt legs, for the daily inspection and contemplation, and for the perpetual benefit, of the pusillanimous public.

And if you ever happen to go to Gramble-Blamble, and visit that museum in the city of Tosh, look for them on the ninety-eighth table in the four hundred and twenty-seventh room of the right-hand corridor of the left wing of the central quadrangle of that magnificent building; for, if you do not, you certainly will not see them.