Poor Mother's had so many geese
Since she's bin Mrs. Goose —
All sorts of fly an' fuzzy ones
That played her fast an' loose —
That somehow it seemed only fair
Their history should be writ,
So, thinking' that, we set to work,
An' this, dear friends, is it.
Of course, we know it's got its faults,
Like leavin' some folks out
That's often in the daily press,
An' elsewhere talked about.
But bless your hearts, it's not always
The folks that's in the swim
That's really, truly mother's geese,
Or, seein' ponds, jump in.
An' all we footed things are n't
geese,
Nor gooses yet, nor ganders,
Though most wise, then, they're ducks
and drakes,
With wobbly understanders,
Which last word there might seem
like slang
Except its 2 intenders
Can make it fit to take in geese
Of different kinds an' genders.
At any rate, these geese that's here
Have underlyin' thinkin's
That's often deeper than the lines
Of jokes an' knocks an' drinkin's,
An' if you don't see all the deeps
Nor quite approve the wit,
Just think we had to write of geese,
An' this, dear friends, is it.
G. B. B.
Mother's Geese
SING a son of ex-pence
Pocket full of bills,
Four-and-twenty new hats,
Foolish fads and frills.
When the bills were opened,
Pa began to bray;
Was n't that a pretty dish,
To serve for dejeuner?
Pa went in his counting-house
And counted up his debts,
Ma went into tantrums —
The kind she always gets;
I was at the keyhole
Trying hard to hear!
Along came the door-knob
And banged me on the ear!
G. C.
HICKORY Dickory Dock.
The Bull ran up the stock,
The stock ran down,
The Bull left town,
Hickory Dickory Dock.
G. C.
THERE was a little man
And he had a little fun,
And he woke up in the morning
With a head, head, head
He went to the brook
And took a little look,
And I will not repeat
What he said, said, said.
But he turned with a moan
To his young wife Joan,
And told her he felt like a
Lark, lark, lark.
Which was hard on the bird,
Though perhaps he referred
To the kind that you find after
Dark, dark, dark.
G. C.
