No More Learning

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 trowsers all so neat,
And a delicate frill to hide his feet
(For though no one speaks of it, every one 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 Pome, of San Remo, Italy. ]




[Illustration: Sheet Music--The Yonghy Bonghy Bo]



THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BO.

[Illustration]

I.

On the Coast of Coromandel
Where the early pumpkins blow,
In the middle of the woods
Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
Two old chairs, and half a candle,
One old jug without a handle,--
These were all his worldly goods:
In the middle of the woods,
These were all the worldly goods
Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bo.


II.

Once, among the Bong-trees walking
Where the early pumpkins blow,
To a little heap of stones
Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking,--
"'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones!
On that little heap of stones
Sits the Lady Jingly Jones! "
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.


III.

"Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
Sitting where the pumpkins blow,
Will you come and be my wife? "
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
"I am tired of living singly--
On this coast so wild and shingly,--
I'm a-weary of my life;
If you'll come and be my wife,
Quite serene would be my life! "
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.


IV.

"On this Coast of Coromandel
Shrimps and watercresses grow,
Prawns are plentiful and cheap,"
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
"You shall have my chairs and candle,
And my jug without a handle!
Gaze upon the rolling deep
(Fish is plentiful and cheap);
As the sea, my love is deep! "
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.


V.

Lady Jingly answered sadly,
And her tears began to flow,--
"Your proposal comes too late,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
I would be your wife most gladly! "
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
"But in England I've a mate!
Yes! you've asked me far too late,
For in England I've a mate,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!


VI.

"Mr. Jones (his name is Handel,--
Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co. )
Dorking fowls delights to send,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle,--
I can merely be your friend!
Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
I will give you three, my friend!
Mr. Yonghy-Bongy-Bo!
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!


VII.

"Though you've such a tiny body,
And your head so large doth grow,--
Though your hat may blow away,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
fy the words I needs must say!
Will you please to go away?
That is all I have to say,
Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bo!
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo! "


VIII.

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow,
To the calm and silent sea
Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
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-Bo,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

[Illustration]


IX.

Through the silent-roaring ocean
Did the Turtle swiftly go;
Holding fast upon his shell
Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
With a sad primaeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
Still the Turtle bore him well.
Holding fast upon his shell,
"Lady Jingly Jones, farewell! "
Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.


X.

From the Coast of Coromandel
Did that Lady never go;
On that heap of stones she mourns
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
Still she weeps, and daily moans;
On that little heap of stones
To her Dorking Hens she moans,
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.




THE POBBLE WHO HAS NO TOES.

[Illustration]

I.

The Pobble who has no toes
Had once as many as we;
When they said, "Some day you may lose them all;"
He replied, "Fish fiddle de-dee! "
And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink
Lavender water tinged with pink;
For she said, "The World in general knows
There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes! "


II.

The Pobble who has no toes,
Swam across the Bristol Channel;
But before he set out he wrapped his nose
In a piece of scarlet flannel.
For his Aunt Jobiska said, "No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it's perfectly known that a Pobble's toes
Are safe--provided he minds his nose. "


III.

The Pobble swam fast and well,
And when boats or ships came near him,
He tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bell
So that all the world could hear him.
And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,
When they saw him nearing the further side,--
"He has gone to fish, for his Aunt Jobiska's
Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers! "


IV.

But before he touched the shore,--
The shore of the Bristol Channel,
A sea-green Porpoise carried away
His wrapper of scarlet flannel.
And when he came to observe his feet,
Formerly garnished with toes so neat,
His face at once became forlorn
On perceiving that all his toes were gone!


V.

And nobody ever knew,
From that dark day to the present,
Whoso had taken the Pobble's toes,
In a manner so far from pleasant.
Whether the shrimps or crawfish gray,
Or crafty Mermaids stole them away,
Nobody knew; and nobody knows
How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes!


VI.

The Pobble who has no toes
Was placed in a friendly Bark,
And they rowed him back, and carried him up
To his Aunt Jobiska's Park.
And she made him a feast, at his earnest wish,
Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish;
And she said, "It's a fact the whole world knows,
That Pobbles are happier without their 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 Trowsers 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 Trowsers 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.

I.

Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos
Climbed to the top of a wall.
And they sate to watch the sunset sky,
And to hear the Nupiter Piffkin cry,
And the Biscuit Buffalo call.
They took up a roll and some Camomile tea,
And both were as happy as happy could be,
Till Mrs. Discobbolos said,--
"Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head,
Suppose we should happen to fall! ! ! ! !
Darling Mr. Discobbolos!


II.

"Suppose we should fall down flumpetty,
Just like pieces of stone,
On to the thorns, or into the moat,
What would become of your new green coat?
And might you not break a bone?
It never occurred to me before,
That perhaps we shall never go down any more! "
And Mrs. Discobbolos said,
"Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
What put it into your head
To climb up this wall, my own
Darling Mr. Discobbolos? "


III.

Mr. Discobbolos answered,
"At first it gave me pain,
And I felt my ears turn perfectly pink
When your exclamation made me think
We might never get down again!
But now I believe it is wiser far
To remain for ever just where we are. "
And Mr. Discobbolos said,
"Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head
We shall never go down again,
Dearest Mrs. Discobbolos! "


IV.

So Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos
Stood up and began to sing,--
"Far away from hurry and strife
Here we will pass the rest of life,
Ding a dong, ding dong, ding!
We want no knives nor forks nor chairs,
No tables nor carpets nor household cares;
From worry of life we've fled;
Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
There is no more trouble ahead,
Sorrow or any such thing,
For Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos! "




THE QUANGLE WANGLE'S HAT.

[Illustration]

I.

On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side,
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody ever could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.


II.

The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
"Jam, and jelly, and bread
Are the best of food for me!
But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
The plainer than ever it seems to me
That very few people come this way
And that life on the whole is far from gay! "
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.


III.

But there came to the Crumpetty Tree
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, "Did ever you see
Any spot so charmingly airy?
May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
O please let us come and build a nest
Of whatever material suits you best,
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee! "


IV.

And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog and the Fimble Fowl
(The Fimble Fowl, with a Corkscrew leg);
And all of them said, "We humbly beg
We may build our homes on your lovely Hat,--
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee! "


V.

And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes,
And the small Olympian bear,
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Baboon who played the flute,
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute,
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat,--
All came and built on the lovely Hat
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.

VI.

And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
"When all these creatures move
What a wonderful noise there'll be! "
And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,
And all were as happy as happy could be,
With the Quangle Wangle Quee.




THE CUMMERBUND.
An Indian Poem.

I.

She sate upon her Dobie,
To watch the Evening Star,
And all the Punkahs, as they passed,
Cried, "My! how fair you are! "
Around her bower, with quivering leaves,
The tall Kamsamahs grew,
And Kitmutgars in wild festoons
Hung down from Tchokis blue.


II.

Below her home the river rolled
With soft meloobious sound,
Where golden-finned Chuprassies swam,
In myriads circling round.
Above, on tallest trees remote
Green Ayahs perched alone,
And all night long the Mussak moan'd
Its melancholy tone.


III.

And where the purple Nullahs threw
Their branches far and wide,
And silvery Goreewallahs flew
In silence, side by side,
The little Bheesties' twittering cry
Rose on the flagrant air,
And oft the angry Jampan howled
Deep in his hateful lair.


IV.

She sate upon her Dobie,
She heard the Nimmak hum,
When all at once a cry arose,
"The Cummerbund is come! "
In vain she fled: with open jaws
The angry monster followed,
And so (before assistance came)
That Lady Fair was swollowed.


V.

They sought in vain for even a bone
Respectfully to bury;
They said, "Hers was a dreadful fate! "
(And Echo answered, "Very. ")
They nailed her Dobie to the wall,
Where last her form was seen,
And underneath they wrote these words,
In yellow, blue, and green:
"Beware, ye Fair! Ye Fair, beware!
Nor sit out late at night,
Lest horrid Cummerbunds should come,
And swollow you outright. "


NOTE. --First published in _Times of India_, Bombay, July, 1874.




THE AKOND OF SWAT.


Who, or why, or which, or _what_, Is the Akond of SWAT?
Is he tall or short, or dark or fair?
Does he sit on a stool or a sofa or chair, or SQUAT,
The Akond of Swat?

Is he wise or foolish, young or old?
Does he drink his soup and his coffee cold, or HOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he sing or whistle, jabber or talk,
And when riding abroad does he gallop or walk, or TROT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he wear a turban, a fez, or a hat?
Does he sleep on a mattress, a bed, or a mat, or a COT,
The Akond of Swat?

When he writes a copy in round-hand size,
Does he cross his T's and finish his I's with a DOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Can he write a letter concisely clear
Without a speck or a smudge or smear or BLOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Do his people like him extremely well?
Or do they, whenever they can, rebel, or PLOT,
At the Akond of Swat?

If he catches them then, either old or young,
Does he have them chopped in pieces or hung, or _shot_,
The Akond of Swat?

Do his people prig in the lanes or park?
Or even at times, when days are dark, GAROTTE?
O the Akond of Swat!

Does he study the wants of his own dominion?
Or doesn't he care for public opinion a JOT,
The Akond of Swat?

To amuse his mind do his people show him
Pictures, or any one's last new poem, or WHAT,
For the Akond of Swat?

At night if he suddenly screams and wakes,
Do they bring him only a few small cakes, or a LOT,
For the Akond of Swat?

Does he live on turnips, tea, or tripe?
Does he like his shawl to be marked with a stripe, or a DOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he like to lie on his back in a boat
Like the lady who lived in that isle remote, SHALLOTT,
The Akond of Swat?

Is he quiet, or always making a fuss?
Is his steward a Swiss or a Swede or a Russ, or a SCOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he like to sit by the calm blue wave?
Or to sleep and snore in a dark green cave, or a GROTT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he drink small beer from a silver jug?
Or a bowl? or a glass? or a cup? or a mug? or a POT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he beat his wife with a gold-topped pipe,
When she lets the gooseberries grow too ripe, or ROT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he wear a white tie when he dines with friends,
And tie it neat in a bow with ends, or a KNOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he like new cream, and hate mince-pies?
When he looks at the sun does he wink his eyes, or NOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he teach his subjects to roast and bake?
Does he sail about on an inland lake, in a YACHT,
The Akond of Swat?

Some one, or nobody, knows I wot
Who or which or why or what
Is 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.

* * * * *




NONSENSE BOTANY.


[Illustration: Armchairia Comfortabilis. ]

[Illustration: Bassia Palealensis. ]

[Illustration: Bubblia Blowpipia. ]

[Illustration: Bluebottlia Buzztilentia. ]

[Illustration: Crabbia Horrida. ]

[Illustration: Smalltoothcombia Domestica. ]

[Illustration: Knutmigrata Simplice. ]

[Illustration: Tureenia Ladlecum. ]

[Illustration: Puffia Leatherbellowsa. ]

[Illustration: Queeriflora Babyoides. ]

* * * * *




NONSENSE ALPHABETS.


A

[Illustration]

A was an Area Arch
Where washerwomen sat;
They made a lot of lovely starch
To starch Papa's Cravat.


B

[Illustration]

B was a Bottle blue,
Which was not very small;
Papa he filled it full of beer,
And then he drank it all.


C

[Illustration]

C was Papa's gray Cat,
Who caught a squeaky Mouse;
She pulled him by his twirly tail
All about the house.


D

[Illustration]

D was Papa's white Duck,
Who had a curly tail;
One day it ate a great fat frog,
Besides a leetle snail.


E

[Illustration]

E was a little Egg,
Upon the breakfast table;
Papa came in and ate it up
As fast as he was able.


F

[Illustration]

F was a little Fish.
Cook in the river took it
Papa said, "Cook! Cook! bring a dish!
And, Cook! be quick and cook it! "


G

[Illustration]

G was Papa's new Gun;
He put it in a box;
And then he went and bought a bun,
And walked about the Docks.


H

[Illustration]

H was Papa's new Hat;
He wore it on his head;
Outside it was completely black,
But inside it was red.


I

[Illustration]

I was an Inkstand new,
Papa he likes to use it;
He keeps it in his pocket now,
For fear that he should lose it.


J

[Illustration]

J was some Apple Jam,
Of which Papa ate part;
But all the rest he took away
And stuffed into a tart.


K

[Illustration]

K was a great new Kite;
Papa he saw it fly
Above a thousand chimney pots,
And all about the sky.


L

[Illustration]

L was a fine new Lamp;
But when the wick was lit,
Papa he said, "This Light ain't good!
I cannot read a bit! "


M

[Illustration]

M was a dish of mince;
It looked so good to eat!
Papa, he quickly ate it up,
And said, "This is a treat! "


N

[Illustration]

N was a Nut that grew
High up upon a tree;
Papa, who could not reach it, said,
"That's _much_ too high for me! "


O

[Illustration]

O was an Owl who flew
All in the dark away,
Papa said, "What an owl you are!
Why don't you fly by day? "

P

[Illustration]

P was a little Pig,
Went out to take a walk;
Papa he said, "If Piggy dead,
He'd all turn into Pork! "


Q

[Illustration]

Q was a Quince that hung
Upon a garden tree;
Papa he brought it with him home,
And ate it with his tea.


R

[Illustration]

R was a Railway Rug
Extremely large and warm;
Papa he wrapped it round his head,
In a most dreadful storm.


S

[Illustration]

S was Papa's new Stick,
Papa's new thumping Stick,
To thump extremely wicked boys,
Because it was so thick.


T

[Illustration]

T was a tumbler full
Of Punch all hot and good;
Papa he drank it up, when in
The middle of a wood.


U

[Illustration]

U was a silver urn,
Full of hot scalding water;
Papa said, "If that Urn were mine,
I'd give it to my daughter! "


V

[Illustration]

V was a Villain; once
He stole a piece of beef.
Papa he said, "Oh, dreadful man!
That Villain is a Thief! "


W

[Illustration]

W was a Watch of Gold:
It told the time of day,
So that Papa knew when to come,
And when to go away.


X

[Illustration]

X was King Xerxes, whom
Papa much wished to know;
But this he could not do, because
Xerxes died long ago.


Y

[Illustration]

Y was a Youth, who kicked
And screamed and cried like mad;
Papa he said, "Your conduct is
Abominably bad! "


Z

[Illustration]

Z was a Zebra striped
And streaked with lines of black;
Papa said once, he thought he'd like
A ride upon his back.




ALPHABET, No. 6.

A tumbled down, and hurt his Arm, against a bit of wood,

B said. "My Boy, oh, do not cry; it cannot do you good! "

C said, "A Cup of Coffee hot can't do you any harm. "

D said, "A Doctor should be fetched, and he would cure the arm. "

E said, "An Egg beat up with milk would quickly make him well. "

F said, "A Fish, if broiled, might cure, if only by the smell. "

G said, "Green Gooseberry fool, the best of cures I hold. "

H said, "His Hat should be kept on, to keep him from the cold. "

I said, "Some Ice upon his head will make him better soon. "

J said, "Some Jam, if spread on bread, or given in a spoon! "

K said, "A Kangaroo is here,--this picture let him see. "

L said, "A Lamp pray keep alight, to make some barley tea. "

M said, "A Mulberry or two might give him satisfaction. "

N said, "Some Nuts, if rolled about, might be a slight attraction. "

O said, "An Owl might make him laugh, if only it would wink. "

P said, "Some Poetry might be read aloud, to make him think. "

Q said, "A Quince I recommend,--a Quince, or else a Quail. "

R said, "Some Rats might make him move, if fastened by their tail. "

S said, "A Song should now be sung, in hopes to make him laugh! "

T said, "A Turnip might avail, if sliced or cut in half! "

U said, "An Urn, with water hot, place underneath his chin! "

V said, "I'll stand upon a chair, and play a Violin! "

W said, "Some Whisky-Whizzgigs fetch, some marbles and a ball! "

X said, "Some double XX ale would be the best of all! "

Y said, "Some Yeast mixed up with salt would make a perfect plaster! "

Z said, "Here is a box of Zinc! Get in, my little master!
We'll shut you up! We'll nail you down! We will, my little
master!
We think we've all heard quite enough of this your sad
disaster! "



***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NONSENSE BOOKS***


******* This file should be named 13650-8. txt or 13650-8. zip *******


This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www. gutenberg. org/dirs/1/3/6/5/13650



Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you! ) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.



*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg. net/license).


Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works

1. A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1. E. 8.

1. B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1. C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1. E below.

1. C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.