Grimm Tales Made Gay by Guy Wetmore Carryl (little readers .txt) 📕
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- Author: Guy Wetmore Carryl
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chum
An uncommonly rum
Old afreet, six cubits in height.
This person infernal,
Who seemed so fraternal,
At bottom was frankly a scamp:
His future to sadden,
He gave to Aladdin
A wonderful magical lamp.
[132] A marvel he dubbed it.
He said if one rubbed it
One’s wishes were done on the spot.
Now what would you do
Were it offered to you?
Refuse it undoubtedly (not)!
It’s thus comprehensive
With pleasure extensive
Aladdin accepted the gift,
And, by it befriended,
Erected a splendid
Château, with a bath and a lift!
[133] Not dreaming of malice,
One year in his palace
He led a luxurious life,
Till his genius dread
Put it into his head
That he needed a beautiful wife.
Responding to friction,
The lamp this affliction
At once for Aladdin secured;
The latter, delighted,
Imagined he sighted
A future of quiet assured.
When gladly he chose her,
He didn’t suppose her
A philatelist, always agape
For novelties, yet
She had all of the set
Of triangular stamps of the Cape.
Some people malicious
Proclaimed her Mauritius
One-penny vermilion a sell.
But that was all rot. It
Was true she had got it,
And the tuppenny blue one as well!
[134] Since thus she collected,
As might be expected,
She didn’t for bric-à-brac care,
So she traded the lamp
For an Ecuador stamp
That somebody told her was rare!
This act served to madden
The mind of Aladdin,
But, ’spite of his impotent wrath,
His manor-house vanished,
To nothingness banished,
And while he was taking a bath!
[135] The average Arab
Is hard as a scarab
When some one has wounded his pride,
So he jumped up and down,
With a cynical frown,
On the face of his beautiful bride!
He had picked up a cargo
Of curious argot
While living in Paris the gay;
In the slang of that city
He cried without pity:
“Comme ça tu me fich’ras la paix!”
[136] The Moral: When stamps you’re adept on
Of risks you are reckless, and yet
Beware! If your face is once stepped on,
That’s the last stamp you’re likely to get!
up His Foe in a Jar
Back to contents
[137]How a Fisherman Corkedup His Foe in a Jar
A fisherman lived on the shore,
(It’s a habit that fishers affect,)
And his life was a hideous bore:
He had nothing to do but collect
Continual harvests of seaweed and shells,
Which he stuck upon photograph frames,
To sell to the guests in the summer hotels
With the quite inappropriate names!
[138] He would wander along by the edge
Of the sea, and I know for a fact
From the pools with a portable dredge
He would curious creatures extract:
And, during the season, he always took lots
Of tourists out fishing for bass,
And showed them politely impossible spots,
In the culpable way of his class.
It happened one day, as afar
He roved on the glistening strand,
That he chanced on a curious jar,
Which lay on a hummock of sand.
It was closed at the mouth with a cork and a seal,
And over the top there was tied
A cloth, and the fisherman couldn’t but feel
That he ought to see what was inside.
[139]
This shows us the fisher beginning to blow
Of preserving himself while he pickled his foe.[140]
[141] But what were his fear and surprise
When the stopper he held in his hand!
For a genie of singular size
Appeared in a trice on the sand,
Who said in the roughest and rudest of tones:
“A monster you’ve foolishly freed!
I shall simply make way with you, body and bones,
And that with phenomenal speed!”
The fisherman looked in his face,
And answered him boldly: “My friend,
How you ever were packed in that space
Is something I don’t comprehend.
Pray do me the favor to show me how you
Can do it, as large as you are.”
The genie retorted: “That’s just what I’ll do!”
And promptly reëntered the jar.
The fisherman corked him up tight:
The genie protested and raved,
But for all he accomplished, he might
As well all his shouting have saved.
And, whenever a generous bonus is paid,
The fisherman willingly tells
The singular tale of this trick that he played,
To the guests in the summer hotels.
The Moral: When fortune you strike,
And you’ve slipped through a dangerous crack,
Get as forward as ever you like,
But never, oh, never get back!
Back to contents
[142]Envoi
Now don’t go and say you’d a dim
Idea of these stories before,
For I’ve frankly confessed them from Grimm,
The monarch of magical lore:
And if, by repeating, I took
Your time, I will candidly vow
This moral (the last in the book)
Has never been published till now!
The Moral: The skeleton’s Grimm,
But I have supplied the apparel,
So it’s fifty per cent, of it Him,
And it’s fifty per cent. of it Carryl.
But still (from the personal severing,
For it isn’t my nature to grump,)
I acknowledge a measure of Levering
Levering-ed the whole of the lump!
[143]
End of Project Gutenberg's Grimm Tales Made Gay, by Guy Wetmore Carryl
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