{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59858/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59858","id":"gutenberg_59858","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59858","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Fairy tales -- Poetry","Humorous poetry, American"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.\n\n Text in a small font is denoted by @atsigns@.\n\n A subscript is denoted by _{x}, for example H_{2}O.\n\n Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.\n\n\n\n\n THE FAIRY\n\n GODMOTHER-IN-LAW\n\n\n\n\n +-------------------------------------------------------+\n | BOOKS BY OLIVER HERFORD |\n | |\n | _WITH PICTURES BY THE AUTHOR_ |\n | |\n | PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER\u2019S SONS |\n | |\n |-------------------------------------------------------|\n | |\n | THE BASHFUL EARTHQUAKE $1.25 |\n | |\n | A CHILD\u2019S PRIMER OF NATURAL HISTORY $1.25 |\n | |\n | OVERHEARD IN A GARDEN $1.25 |\n | |\n | MORE ANIMALS _net_, $1.00 |\n | |\n | THE RUBAIYAT OF A PERSIAN KITTEN _net_, $1.00 |\n | |\n | THE FAIRY GODMOTHER-IN-LAW _net_, $1.00 |\n +-------------------------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n The Fairy\n Godmother-in-Law\n\n _By_\n Oliver Herford\n\n [Illustration]\n\n _With Some Pictures\n By the Author_\n\n NEW YORK \u00b7 Published by\n Charles Scribner\u2019s Sons\n\n\n\n\n _Copyright, 1905, by_\n OLIVER HERFORD\n\n Published, November, 1905\n\n\n THE TROW PRESS \u00b7 NEW YORK\n\n\n\n\nTo M. H.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n THE FAIRY GODMOTHER-IN-LAW 1\n\n THE CHARM THAT FAILED 31\n\n THE SILVER QUESTION 41\n\n HOW THE LION BECAME KING 47\n\n THE WAKEFUL PRINCESS 55\n\n A MODERN DIALOGUE 65\n\n THE HEART OF ICE 71\n\n THE JUDGMENT OF BISHOP VALENTINE 75\n\n THE BACHELOR GIRL 78\n\n MEPHISTO 80\n\n A CORNER IN CURLS 83\n\n THE HYDRANT-HEADED MONSTER 93\n\n TO MY TOY CANARY 95\n\n THE HAND OF TIME 101\n\n ENVOI 103\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRY\n\nGODMOTHER-IN-LAW\n\n\n\n\n_PREFACE_\n\n\n _It is not always well to place\n Unbounded Faith in Fairy Lore,\n Believing that in every case\n They all lived Happy evermore._\n\n _Stranger than Fiction though we deem\n The Truth, it does not follow, too,\n That Fairy Tales, because they seem\n Still Stranger, must be still more True._\n\n _Far be it from me to assail\n The Truthfulness of Fairy Writ,\n But let us take a Well-Known Tale\n And see what really came of it._\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE WEDDING\n\n When Cinderella wed the Prince\n She thought him all her Fancy Painted,\n And this was not surprising since\n They were not very Well Acquainted.\n While he, not dreaming where she got\n Glass slippers, counted on a _Dot_.\n\n The Prince was Brave, Industrious, Wise:\n Brave in bright Silks and Satins gay,\n Wise in the Lore of Ladies\u2019 Eyes,\n And most Industrious--at Play;\n A Leader, too--in Fashion\u2019s Set;\n And Deep--that is to say, in Debt.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Who was the Somebody of Note?\n (I never could remember names)\n Was it Mark Twain or Mr. Choate\n Or Mrs. Ward or Henry James\n That penn\u2019d those words of Wise Import,\n \u201cWho weds in haste repents--in court\u201d?\n\n But let us not Anticipate.\n The Princess wore a Plain Gold Frock;\n No Fairy Dress to spoil the f\u00eate\n By vanishing at Twelve o\u2019clock.\n This time no Spell her pleasure blighted--\n _Her god-mamma was not invited_.\n\n Not that she really meant to flout\n Her Benefactress; but you see\n She had not told the Prince about\n Her Fairy Godmother, lest he\n Might change his mind if he foresaw\n A Fairy God-mamma-in-law.\n\n A Fairy may be Good or Ill,\n A Godmother Morose or Gay;\n A Mother-in-law, say what you will,\n Is not immortal any way.\n But wouldn\u2019t it a Bridegroom stun\n To think of all three rolled in one?\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\nII\n\nTHE LETTER\n\n All day the envelope she scann\u2019d.\n But though her royal name it bore,\n \u2019Twas in an Unfamiliar Hand.\n The Postmark puzzled her still more.\n The Princess could not understand\n Who\u2019d write to her from----\n\n [Illustration: NO-MANS LAND]\n\n She turned it Left, she turned it Right,\n She pinched it, shook it to and fro,\n She held it up against the Light,\n And topsy-turvy wise--but no,\n It still continued to preserve\n Its air of Self-contained Reserve.\n\n One day the Princess in a Pet,\n It was her Last, her only hope,\n Summoned her Trusty Cabinet,\n To Sit upon the Envelope,\n And at no matter what expense,\n To end her Terrible Suspense.\n\n But all their Learn\u00e9d Consultations\n Ended in Nought, for what avail\n @Mere Man\u2019s@ Unerring Calculations\n Where WOMAN\u2019S Intuitions fail?\n Their Weighty Brains refused to cope\n With that Unyielding Envelope.\n\n She put the matter in the Hands\n Of the Police; she went to see\n Astrologers from Foreign Lands\n And experts in Chirography;\n And offered Large Rewards to all\n Who furnished Clues, however small.\n\n But no one came for the Reward,\n Nor would the Envelope betray\n The Secret in its bosom stored,\n When by the Merest Chance one day\n She overheard a Child, who cried,\n \u201c_If it were mine, I\u2019d look inside_.\u201d\n\n Tossing the Tot a Thousand Pounds,\n The Princess to her Chamber sped;\n Her Joy and Rapture knew no bounds;\n She tore the Envelope and read\n\n A note from god-mamma, to say,\n _She might expect her any day_.\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE VISIT\n\n One day as Cinderella ate\n Her Simple Lunch of sixteen courses,\n A Golden Coach drove up in state,\n Drawn by a team of Mouse-Grey horses,\n And on the carriage door were scrolled\n The Letters F. G. M., in gold.\n\n The Princess dropped a Jelly Roll,\n Which tipped with Pink her Crystal Shoe,\n And cried, \u201cO my prophetic soul!\n _My God_-mamma! What shall I do?\u201d\n Then, Ladylike, she cut the knot\n By simply fainting on the spot.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Strong Fairy Salts soon brought her to.\n She looked up in a startled way.\n \u201cWhy, God-mamma--can that be you?\n How sweet! I _hope_ you\u2019ve come to stay.\n The Prince will simply be enchanted.\u201d\n \u201cYour Wish,\u201d quoth God-mamma, \u201cis granted.\u201d\n\n True to her word, the Fairy soon\n Was quite at home. The royal Attic\n She turned into a Grand Saloon,\n Where with her cats she reigned ecstatic.\n \u201cHenceforth,\u201d said she, \u201cI\u2019ll live at leisure,\n And only work my Spells for pleasure.\u201d\n\n She had a Sense of Humor dry,\n She loved her Little Joke--and tho\u2019\n None of her Tricks were prompted by\n A spiteful heart or love of show,\n To love one\u2019s Joke does not, it\u2019s true,\n Imply that Others love it too.\n\n She had a disconcerting way,\n When Argument became a bore,\n Of saying what she had to say\n And disappearing through the Floor,\n A joke that never failed to cause\n A weird, if not side-splitting, Pause.\n\n At meals, if there appeared a dish\n God-mamma did not find appealing,\n She\u2019d wave her wand, and Fowl or Fish\n Would promptly vanish thro\u2019 the ceiling,\n And in its place would be _Fried Mole_\n Or _Crocodile en casserole_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n One day some Ladies of the Court\n Performed a Play which bored her so,\n She up and cried, \u201cThat\u2019s not my sort!\u201d\n And changed it to a Ballet show.\n A Tactless Joke, which caused, of course,\n Much talk--and more than one Divorce.\n\n But nothing gave her such delight,\n Or keener Sense of Humor showed,\n Than when the Prince came home at night;\n She\u2019d change his door-key to a Toad,\n And laugh to see it hop about,\n Or turn the Key-Hole inside out.\n\n Once, weary of her Pesterings,\n The Prince apostrophized a bird,\n Exclaiming, \u201cWould I too had wings!\u201d\n It chanced the Fairy overheard,\n And, with the very best intentions,\n Granted him wings of Large Dimensions.\n\n Now wings (as any Naturalist\n Will tell you) are but variations\n Of arms, and cannot co-exist\n With such-like Brachial Formations.\n Accordingly, he lost his arms,\n Which handicaps a Prince\u2019s charms.\n\n To his embarrassment and woe,\n He had to be both dressed and fed\n And brushed and bathed and put--but no,\n That he was spared. His Wings when spread\n Were Forty Feet from side to side;\n Bed was a luxury denied.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n He soon repented of his Whim.\n With wings like windmill sails, of course,\n No room was big enough for him.\n So all night long, in Chill Remorse,\n He perched upon the roof. At dawn\n The spell was happily withdrawn.\n\n About this time the Princess planned\n A grand Subscription Ball, to aid\n The Starving Shepherds of the land.\n The Prince, when told the shepherds\u2019 trade\n Included Shepherdesses too,\n Subscribed a Thumping I. O. U.\n\n Upon the evening of the ball,\n It chanced that God-mamma-in-law,\n Flitting about the Palace Hall,\n Passed by the Prince\u2019s Suite, and saw\n His gladsome Evening Robes outspread\n In neat array upon the bed.\n\n She eyed them sadly. Here in places\n The silken pile was wearing thin;\n And here were stains and here were traces\n Of where the Moth had broken in.\n \u201cAha! Aha! it\u2019s plain to see\n This is a little job for me!\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll make him a new suit,\u201d said she,\n \u201cA brave new suit without a flaw.\n I\u2019d like to know what Home would be\n Without a God-mamma-in-law.\u201d\n And in its place upon the bed\n A Fairy Substitute she spread.\n\n All unobserved, she slipped away,\n Delighted with her Little Game,\n And, seeking some new trick to play,\n To Cinderella\u2019s closet came.\n Where for her golden robe of state\n She left a Fairy Duplicate.\n\n Dressed for the ball, they drove in State,\n Looking superlatively swell;\n God-mamma pleaded _mal de t\u00eate_\n And from her window waved farewell.\n Her voice rose o\u2019er the people\u2019s cheers,\n \u201c_Be back at twelve o\u2019clock my dears!_\u201d\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE BALL\n\n Before the splendors of the Ball\n The Boldest Metaphor grows tame;\n Superlatives abjectly crawl\n Back to their lexicon in shame,\n And Synonyms in shrieking chorus\n Take refuge in the deep Thesaurus.\n\n But language has its Pioneers,\n Who seek Fresh Words and Postures new,\n Slang rushes in where Syntax fears\n To tread--so I for Ade halloo,\n And say (with George\u2019s kind permission)\n It was \u201c_A Heated Proposition_.\u201d\n\n The Princess never dreamed her frock\n Of gold was wrought by fairy power.\n And set, like an alarming Clock,\n _To go off_ at the midnight hour.\n Her childish laugh rang with delight:\n \u201c_Thank God_-mamma\u2019s not here to-night.\u201d\n\n Prince Charming looked his very best\n To--I mean at--the Ladies Fair;\n No dread foreboding stirred his breast;\n No Writing on the Wall was there\n To Tell him of the Awful Shock\n Awaiting him at Twelve O\u2019clock.\n\n\nV\n\nMIDNIGHT\n\n Again (see chapter on _The Ball_)\n The Boldest Metaphor grows tame;\n Superlatives abjectly crawl\n Back to their lexicon in shame,\n And Synonyms in shrieking chorus\n Take refuge in the deep Thesaurus.\n\n But every cloud that bars the sun\n They say with silverwear is lined;\n And tho\u2019 they felt they were Undone,\n Their Highnesses were cheered to find\n At midnight when their Robes took wings,\n They kept their--well, their Other Things.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Perchance, Dear Reader, you have noted\n In that Department which to Trade is\n By Monthly Magazines devoted,\n The Pleasant Gentlemen and Ladies\n Whose Union Suits our souls bewitch--\n The Simple Flannels of the Rich.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Even arrayed as one of these,\n In Homespun stood the Royal Twain,\n While people cried, on bended knees,\n \u201cLong live their Majesties! who deign\n Thus by example to Restore\n Our Woolen Industry of Yore!\u201d\n\n Thro\u2019 all the Land the Tidings sped\n From Door to Door, from Wife to Wife,\n Thro\u2019 all the Land the Fashion spread\n For Woolen and the Simple Life.\n New looms sprang up on every hand\n And shepherds prospered in the land.\n\n Poor God-mamma, \u2019twas her last caper;\n One night to throw some Light about\n She changed herself into a Taper,\n And Cinderella blew her out.\n The Princess then divorced the Prince,\n And Both lived Happy Ever Since.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHARM THAT FAILED\n\n[Illustration]\n\n The Hero of my tale\n Was a serpent--don\u2019t turn pale!\n My snake was not the \u201cserpent\u201d of Theology\n With an apple up his sleeve\n To tempt some child of Eve,\n Nor was he versed in deadly Toxicology.\n No, his fangs were free from guile,\n And he had a roomy smile.\n There was no more harmless snake in all Zoology.\n But since no creature known\n Is perfect, I will own\n He had one failing--vanity, alas! innate.\n He was also fond of sport,\n Though not a cruel sort:\n His aim was more to charm than to assassinate.\n He was often heard to say,\n When feeling rather gay,\n \u201cI\u2019d like to see the Bird I cannot fascinate!\u201d\n\n _And one day\n Some laughter-loving Fay\n His boasting heard,\n And sent a Bird._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n It was sitting, stuffed and stiff on\n A thing of straw and chiffon,\n Ribbands and lace and jet and such like finery,\n By a milliner begotten\n And some careless maid forgotten,\n In stuffed and lonely splendor in the Vinery,\n When with expectant eye\n Mr. Serpent, by and by,\n Strolled forth in search of game from out the Pinery.\n\n _And the Bird\n Never stirred\n Or said a word._\n\n \u201cAha!\u201d said Mr. Snake,\n \u201cUnless I much mistake,\n Here\u2019s a charming subject for a Trance Hypnotic;\n Soon I\u2019ll have her in my toils!\u201d\n And with mysterious coils\n He advanced with air complacent and despotic.\n Then he rose up, and let fly\n A glance from out his eye,\n And watched for the effect of his narcotic.\n\n _And the Bird\n Never stirred\n Or said a word._\n\n Said Mr. Snake, \u201cMy spell\n Seems to work extremely well.\u201d\n And straightway with Majestic Pride he puffed,\n But when an hour had pass\u2019d,\n And still the Bird stood fast,\n I must confess he felt a trifle huff\u2019d.\n \u201cThere\u2019s something wrong,\u201d said he,\n \u201cWith the Bird--or else with me.\u201d\n How should he know the wretched thing was stuffed?\n\n _That Bird,\n Who never stirred\n Or said a word._\n\n Mr. Snake was sorely troubled,\n And his efforts he redoubled,\n And he balanced on the tip end of his tail,\n Swaying to and fro the while\n Like a pendulum--a style\n That hitherto he\u2019d never known to fail.\n But not a word she uttered,\n And not a feather fluttered\n As he plied his mystic Art without avail.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \u201cConfound the bird!\u201d he said,\n And he stood upon his head\n And waved his long mysterious tail in air,\n And he focussed all the rays\n Of his esoteric gaze\n Into one cold and petrifying glare.\n But the Deadly Glance fell wide;\n He might as well have tried\n To hypnotize a table or a chair--\n\n _As that Bird,\n Who never stirred\n Or said a word._\n\n \u201cThat settles it!\u201d he cried.\n \u201cI will not be defied!\u201d\n And he coiled himself to spring--oh, rash proceeding!\n Like an arrow from a bow\n He sprang--how should he know\n The Doom to which he was so swiftly speeding?\n Next moment he lay dead,\n With a Hat Pin through his head,\n Whereat, with most commendable good-breeding--\n\n _The Bird\n Never stirred\n Or said a word._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SILVER QUESTION\n\n The Sun appeared so smug and bright,\n One day, that I made bold\n To ask him what he did each night\n With all his surplus gold.\n\n He flushed uncomfortably red,\n And would not meet my eye.\n \u201cI travel round the world,\u201d he said,\n \u201cAnd travelling rates are high.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n With frigid glance I pierced him through.\n He squirmed and changed his tune.\n Said he: \u201cI will be frank with you:\n I lend it to the Moon.\n\n \u201cPoor thing! You know she\u2019s growing old\n And hasn\u2019t any folk.\n She suffers terribly from cold,\n And half the time she\u2019s broke.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n That evening on the beach I lay\n Behind a lonely dune,\n And as she rose above the bay\n I buttonholed the Moon.\n\n \u201cTell me about that gold,\u201d said I.\n I saw her features fall.\n \u201cYou see, it\u2019s useless to deny;\n The Sun has told me all.\u201d\n\n \u201cSir!\u201d she exclaimed, \u201chow _can_ you try\n An honest Moon this way?\n As for the gold, I put it by\n Against a rainy day.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n I smiled and shook my head. \u201cAll right,\n If you _must_ know,\u201d said she,\n \u201cI change it into silver bright\n Wherewith to tip the Sea.\n\n \u201cHe is so faithful and so good,\n A most deserving case;\n If he should leave, I fear it would\n Be hard to fill his place.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n When asked if they accepted tips,\n The waves became so rough;\n I thought of those at sea in ships,\n And felt I\u2019d said enough.\n\n For if one virtue I have learned,\n \u2019Tis _tact_; so I forbore\n To press the matter, though I burned\n To ask one question more.\n\n I hate a scene, and do not wish\n To be mixed up in gales,\n But, oh, I longed to ask the Fish\n Whence came their silver scales!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE LION BECAME KING\n\n Once in the hazy days of Yore\n (I cannot very well be more\n Explicit, since it was before\n Dates were invented).\n Once on a time, as I began\n To say, the Lion formed a plan\n To undermine the rule of Man,\n Which he resented.\n\n In answer to the Lion\u2019s call,\n His fellow-creatures, great and small,\n From earth and air came one and all\n In Trepidation.\n He then delivered a discourse,\n And proved with eloquence and force\n Man was their one and only source\n Of Tribulation.\n\n \u201cWhat is he--taken at his best?\n A mere pretence! Not even dressed,\n If we his puny form divest\n Of spoil he\u2019s looted.\n The fact that we can far excel\n His boasted Strength and Speed, as well\n As Hearing, Sight, and Taste and Smell,\n Is undisputed.\n\n \u201cI am not boasting when I own\n for Strength I\u2019d back my claws alone\n Against his battle-axe of stone;\n While, as to Vision,\n \u2019Tis nothing more than idle talk\n To mention Man beside the Hawk--\n The swift Horse, too, his clumsy walk\n Views with derision.\n\n \u201cOnly Man\u2019s Ignorance, I\u2019m bound\n To say, could possibly confound\n The Scent and Hearing of the Hound\n With his dull powers;\n As well his Taste, that gluts on fare\n Like half-burnt Antelope and Bear,\n With the fastidious Bee compare,\n That sips the flowers.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \u201cAnd yet,\u201d the Lion said, \u201cthough we\n Outshine Man to the last degree\n Collectively, none holds as he\n The Combination.\u201d\n In short, the moral of his theme\n Was this: If Beasts would reign supreme\n Their only practicable scheme\n Was Federation.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n And so, in view of Public Need,\n The Hawk, Hound, Bee, and Horse agreed\n To pool their Sight, Scent, Taste, and Speed;\n And in due season\n They made, _pro tem._, the Lion King,\n Intrusting him with everything\n Upon condition he would bring\n Proud Man to reason.\n\n The crafty Lion then proposed\n To send an Embassy composed\n Of those same four. As none opposed,\n They started straightway,\n And, coming to Man\u2019s portals wide,\n They entered, but no trace espied\n Of Man, until (from the outside)\n He closed the gateway.\n\n And there he kept them till they swore\n To be his servants evermore,\n And work his will, and bow before\n His rod of iron:\n The Dog to watch, the Hawk to kill,\n The Horse to carry and to till,\n The Bee with sweets his jars to fill.\n All save the Lion--\n\n The Lion stayed at home--and purred,\n And kept thenceforth the crown conferred\n _Pro tem._, and nothing more was heard\n About Conditions.\n So ends my tale. Perchance it brings\n Some light to bear on certain things--\n Such as the Origin of Kings,\n And Politicians.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WAKEFUL PRINCESS\n\n One time there lived (that is to say,\n If half a crust of bread a day\n And sleeping on a bed of hay\n May so be rated)\n A Gentle Youth who tuned his lay\n To all the Metres of the day,\n But was not, I regret to say,\n Appreciated.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n In Market-place or Public Way\n He read his ode or sang his lay,\n As was the custom of the day,\n But none suggested\n A Laurel Wreath or Crown of Bay:\n Instead, one morn, to his dismay,\n While spouting forth a Tragic Play,\n He was arrested.\n\n In Irons he was led away,\n And, by a Justice stern and gray,\n For blocking up the Public Way\n He was indicted.\n Then, since he had nowith to pay\n The Fine (a trifle anyway),\n To leave the town without delay\n He was invited.\n\n There was no choice but to obey--\n He left the town at break of day,\n Yet still his heart was brave and gay;\n Fate could not queer him.\n For was it not the month of May,\n Were there not flowers beside the way,\n And little lambs to sport and play,\n And birds to cheer him?\n\n[Illustration]\n\n He journeyed on for many a day;\n The Peasants gave him Curds and Whey;\n For aught I know the Fairies may\n Some Food have found him.\n At night he slept beneath a Bay\n Or Laurel Tree, and, I dare say,\n Dreamed he was Laureate, and they\n Were twined around him.\n\n Indeed, his only trouble lay\n In this, that tho\u2019 his spirits gay\n And gentle Heart and winning way\n Charmed and delighted\n All whom he met, yet, strange to say,\n To hear his verses none would stay--\n Even the Peasants ran away\n When he recited.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n But he was not the sort that say,\n \u201cOh, woe is mine--alack-a-day!\u201d\n He lived for Hope, and in some way\n Was bound to find it.\n \u201cWhat matter! Let them go,\u201d he\u2019d say;\n \u201cEach to his taste--henceforth I\u2019ll play\n And sing to Birds alone, for they\n Don\u2019t seem to mind it.\u201d\n\n And so he journeyed many a day,\n Till now at last his darkening way\n Lies thro\u2019 a forest dim and gray;\n Yet, nothing daunted,\n Though hoary branches bar the way,\n And twisted roots his steps betray,\n And ghostly voices seem to say\n The place is haunted.\n\n Singing a Carol blithe and gay,\n He presses on, nor does he stay,\n Until at last the light of day\n His sight surprises.\n And now a little winding way\n Leads, through a meadow pink with May,\n To where, not half a mile away,\n A Palace rises.\n\n He wandered on, his thoughts astray,\n Framing a little Roundelay\n And weaving garlands of the May\n (For whom not guessing),\n Until before him suddenly\n There loomed a gateway grim and gray,\n Whose dark doors yielded to the sway\n Of his light pressing.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n And lo! a garden gleaming, gay\n With flowers in dazzling array,\n And fountains flashing silver spray,\n And bowers shady;\n And on an emerald bank there lay\n A creature fairer than the day,\n Yet sadder than a moonlight ray--\n A wondrous lady.\n\n Abashed the Poet turned away,\n When a low voice entreated, \u201cStay!\n Read me that little Roundelay\n I heard you singing.\u201d\n It was as though upon him lay\n A spell that forced him to obey,\n And he recited it straightway\n In voice clear ringing.\n\n A dreamy, languid, far-away\n Expression dims her eyes as they,\n Like violets at droop of day,\n Are closing--closing.\n The Poet ends his Roundelay,\n And turns to hear what she may say,\n And finds to his complete dismay\n The Princess dozing.\n\n Then rose a cry: \u201cShe sleeps! Hurray!\n The Princess sleeps! Oh, joyful day!\n The spell is broken--Rise, I pray,\n Oh, sweet song-maker.\u201d\n \u2019Twas the King spoke, \u201cArise, I pray:\n I make you Laureate this day;\n My daughter\u2019s hand, too, by the way,\n Is yours--don\u2019t wake her.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nA MODERN DIALOGUE\n\n\nScene--_On Manhattan Island_. _Time--To-day. Hour--Ten-thirty.\nPersons of the play_:\n\n SIBYL. _A dream of beauty, half-awake,\n In filmy disarray--about to take\n Her morning tub. In speech with her the while\n Is_ ROBERT. _He is dressed in riding style._\n\n SIBYL--Why, Bob, it\u2019s _you_! They got your name all wrong.\n I\u2019m sorry that I made you wait so long.\n\n BOB--Only six minutes by my watch--it\u2019s true\n A minute seems a year, awaiting you!\n But Time is merciful and I rejoice\n That I am still alive to hear your voice.\n\n SIBYL--A very pretty speech, for you, indeed.\n But what extenuation can you plead\n For waking ladies at the break of day\n From peaceful slumbers, sir!\n\n BOB-- Oh, come, I say!\n It\u2019s half past ten!\n\n SIBYL-- Well, it was nearly three\n Before I got to bed!\n\n BOB-- Good gracious me!\n I\u2019m sure I\u2019d no idea it was so late.\n Why, I was riding in the Park at eight\n And looked for you. I own I felt abused;\n Last night you said----\n\n SIBYL-- I beg to be excused\n From keeping foolish promises, when made\n At two A.M., by moonlight. I\u2019m afraid\n My memory\u2019s no better than a sieve.\n So you expected me? The Lord forgive\n Your trusting soul!\n\n BOB-- It is His _m\u00e9tier_!\n\n SIBYL--Don\u2019t be outrageous, or I\u2019ll run away.\n\n BOB--Ah, no; don\u2019t go. I will be good, I swear!\n \u2019Twas a quotation, Heine, or Voltaire,\n Or some fool cynic fellow. By the way,\n If you have nothing on, what do you say\n To breakfasting with Peg and me at noon\n At the Casino?\n\n SIBYL-- Well, that\u2019s rather soon;\n I can\u2019t be ready for an hour or more.\n\n BOB--Come as you are, you know that I adore\n Your ladyship in any sort of gown;\n Besides, there\u2019s not another soul in town.\n Come as you are; there\u2019ll only be we three.\n\n SIBYL--Well, I like that! It\u2019s fortunate for me\n This is a telephone and not that new\n Invention one can talk and _see_ through, too!\n What\u2019s that you said?\n\n BOB-- I didn\u2019t speak at all\n I only _thought_.\n\n SIBYL-- Well, _don\u2019t_! Suppose we call\n The breakfast half past one instead of noon?\n\n BOB (_joyously_)--\n Then you will come?\n\n SIBYL-- I swear!\n\n BOB-- Not by the moon?\n\n SIBYL (_laughing_)--\n No, you may count on me. Now I must fly.\n One-thirty--don\u2019t forget--Good-by!\n\n BOB-- Good-by!\n\n (_They ring off._)\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEART OF ICE\n\n Now whither are you flying\n And on what game intent,\n Cupid? There\u2019s no denying\n On mischief you are bent.\n What is the use of trying\n To look so innocent?\n\n What means your empty quiver?\n Did heart of some coquette\n Your golden arrows shiver?\n Or did you, boy, upset\n Your darts in Lethe\u2019s river,\n Or break them in a pet?\n\n What is it you\u2019re concealing,\n My patience to annoy?\n A heart you have been stealing,\n Or some such foolish toy?\n Come, now--no double-dealing!\n Out with it--Cupid, boy!\n\n \u201cI have,\u201d quoth Cupid, shyly,\n \u201cA thing wherewith to hew\n Cold hearts\u201d (he hinted slyly\n That such a heart I knew).\n \u201c\u2019Tis recommended highly--\n An ice-pick--what say you?\u201d\n\n Gravely I shake my finger\n At Cupid--\u201c\u2019Tis indeed\n The very thing to bring her\n To reason, boy, so speed!\n Fly, Cupid! Do not linger--\n Jove grant you may succeed!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE JUDGEMENT OF ST. VALENTINE]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE JUDGMENT OF BISHOP VALENTINE\n\n One tyme a Youthe of faire degree\n Didde looke upon a Mayde. Ah me,\n She was as coye as anye flow\u2019r,\n She stole hys harte in thatte sayme how\u2019r.\n Alle vainlie he to Love didde calle,\n Ye blinde Godde holp hym notte atte alle.\n To Bishop Valentine thenne hies\n Ye Youthe, ye Damosel likewyse,\n Ande each \u2019gan tell hys tayle of griefe.\n Each sayd ye other was ye thiefe.\n \u201cZounds!\u201d cried ye Sainte, \u201cthis brawle must cease.\n I\u2019ll binde ye bothe to keepe ye peace.\u201d\n Whereat ye twain in nowyse loath,\n \u201cPray then wyth one bond binde us bothe.\u201d\n Loude laughed ye Sainte, \u201cPerdi! \u2019Tis done!\u201d\n And made ye Youthe and Mayden one.\n\n * * * * *\n Lady, anent this suit of mine\n In search of precedents, I waded\n Through ancient lore, and found this fine\n Old Judgment, in a parchment faded.\n If you will ponder the last line\n And be by wise example aided,\n We, too, will make Saint Valentine\n Our Judge, and--compromise, as they did.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BACHELOR GIRL\n\n Here\u2019s to the Bachelor Girl\n Who fain her charms would cloister.\n She is a precious pearl\n That will not leave the oyster.\n She is a proud sweet-pea\n That scorns to be a vine,\n And lean upon a tree\n Or round a stick entwine.\n \u201cWhat! lean upon a stick!\n Oh, no! I\u2019m not that sort--\n I will grow branches thick\n And be my own support!\u201d\n Beware, O pearl of price,\n Lest you be cast to swine;\n O proud sweet-pea, think twice\n Ere you refuse to twine!\n O Bachelor Girl, we drink\n Confusion to your plan;\n Beware, lest Fate shall link\n You to a Spinster Man!\n O change, ere \u2019tis too late,\n The choker tall and silly,\n The tweeds--the hat we hate,\n For something soft and frilly!\n Take off the stockings blue,\n (We will avert our gaze),\n Then will we drink to you\n Long life--and happy days!\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: MEPHISTO]\n\n We\u2019ve drunk to everything we know,\n From Lang Syne to The Ladies;\n Now, one more Toast before we go--\n Mephisto, Prince of Hades!\n When sober we are wont, \u2019tis true,\n To bury, not to praise him;\n But let us give the De\u2019il his due,\n And toast him while we raise him.\n For tho\u2019 his company we\u2019re taught\n To shun, there\u2019s no denying\n Mephisto never yet was caught\n Beneath false colors flying.\n He wears his coat and plume of red\n With candor so unswerving\n We must applaud, although \u2019tis said\n He took some points from Irving.\n Think of the Stage, think of the Church,\n Without their villain ruddy,\n If Old Nick left them in the lurch\n Without an understudy!\n As well \u201cOthello\u201d played without\n The Gentleman of Color,\n Or \u201cHamlet\u201d with the Prince left out:\n Could anything be duller?\n A world from all temptation free\n Would sadly lack in flavor;\n And what would Untried Virtue be\n But Salt without its savor?\n To pawn his soul the sinner goes\n More than half-way to meet him,\n Yet when Mephisto would foreclose\n He does his best to cheat him.\n In Church to-day we sound his Knell,\n To-morrow at a revel\n We fall to raising him--and--well,\n We treat him like the Devil.\n So let us toast our Foe of Foes,\n Long may we live to rout him.\n Here\u2019s to Mephisto! Goodness knows\n What would we do without him.\n And, good Mephisto, do not spurn\n Our Toast with mocking laughter,\n Nor yet the compliment return--\n By Toasting _us_ hereafter!\n\n\n\n\nA CORNER IN CURLS\n\n Once on a time when Men were Bold\n And Women Fair--to be precise--\n A Princess lived whose Hair was Gold\n Beyond the Dreams of Avarice;\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Beauty she had and Wealth untold,\n Besides a Fabulous Amount\n Of Jewels rare and Crowns of Gold,\n And Suitors more than she could count.\n\n Such Suitors! Tho\u2019 her Fingers Fair\n Had been as leaves upon the Trees\n They still were far too few to wear\n The Rings they offered, on their Knees.\n\n In Coaches, Caravans, and Ships\n The Suitors came in Flocks untold,\n Happy to kiss her Finger-tips\n And beg from her a Lock of Gold.\n\n For tho\u2019 she seemed to Cupid\u2019s Dart\n Impervious, and would not share\n The smallest atom of her Heart,\n She was most lavish with her Hair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n To all who craved the Golden Boon\n She gave, until one Night her Maid\n Exclaimed, \u201cAlas! Your Highness soon\n Will not have Hair enough to braid!\u201d\n\n Next day the Court was in a state,\n The usual audience was refused,\n A Notice hung upon the Gate--\n \u201c_The Princess begs to be Excused._\u201d\n\n Daily the Throng of Suitors grew\n And clamored madly at the door,\n Until at length they formed a queue\n Extending for a mile or more.\n\n The Chancellor was in despair.\n \u201cPrincess, it comes to this,\u201d he said,\n \u201cThat either you must lose your hair\n Or I must surely lose my head!\u201d\n\n The Princess turned away her face.\n \u201cOh, dear,\u201d she cried, \u201cthis grieves me sore;\n It will be hard to fill your place--\n You were a first-rate Chancellor!\n\n \u201cBut do not grieve--I have a plan\n To keep your head and save my Pride.\u201d\n Then to the marble gate she ran,\n Unloosed her hair, stepped forth, and cried:\n\n \u201cBrave Suitors, look upon this Gold,\n This mint of Curls--lo, I present\n A share to each of you--behold\n My Notes of Curl--at five per cent!\u201d\n\n A cheer rose from a Thousand Throats;\n The panic passed--and months flew by.\n The Princess issued Tons of Notes,\n When lo!--a Bolt from out the Sky--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n A message came, brought by a Churl:\n \u201c_Pont Morgan, Sultan of Peru,\n Has bought up all your Notes of Curl,\n And all your Notes are falling Due!_\u201d\n\n The Princess grew distraught with fears\n By Day. At night she tossed in Bed,\n Dreaming an Awful Pair of Shears\n Hung by a Hair above her Head.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n At last the Fatal Morning came,\n And with it came Pont Morgan, too,\n With Awful Shears to press his claim,\n And an Enormous Retinue.\n\n \u201cThe Law is Just!\u201d the People cried;\n \u201cAnd She the Penalty must pay!\u201d\n The Shears their Awful Jaws spread wide,\n When suddenly a Voice cried, \u201cStay!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n An Unknown Damsel, Pale and Proud,\n And clad in Silken Cap and Gown,\n Strode swiftly through the gaping crowd,\n And struck the Awful Scissors down.\n\n \u201cBeware!\u201d she cried, \u201cProud Sultan, ere\n You touch a Hair of that Fair Head;\n For know you not that Every Hair\n Is numbered--as the Prophet said?\n\n \u201cShow me the Notes--see, here is writ\n A number plain across each Bond,\n And you may only draw for it\n The numbered Hair to correspond.\n\n \u201cSo pause, Pont Morgan, ere you draw\n A Single Hair from that Gold Head;\n If it be wrong--then by the Law\n Your Life and Lands are forfeited!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \u201cHurray! Hurray! The Maid is Right!\u201d\n The People cried with mad uproar.\n The Sultan turned a deadly white,\n And fell in Fits upon the Floor.\n\n \u201cO Lady, whosoe\u2019er you be,\n Claim what you will in all my Land!\u201d\n The Princess cried. \u201cI am,\u201d said he,\n \u201cNot Maid, but Man--I claim your Hand.\u201d\n\n \u201c\u2019Tis yours! Right gladly will I be\n Your Bride--for in Creation\u2019s Plan\n I never dreamed to find,\u201d said she,\n \u201cA Portia\u2019s Logic in a Man!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\nTHE HYDRANT-HEADED MONSTER\n\nBeing an epistle to Paul. From Temperance\n\n It comes! The monster rearing high,\n Against the lurid western sky,\n Its horrid, hissing Hydrant Heads,\n While o\u2019er the shuddering land it sheds\n A dreary pall of waste and woe\n And chilling streams of H_{2}O.\n Now saints defend us, one and all,\n And most especially Saint Paul,\n Thou patron saint of Honest Fighting\n And Common Sense and Letterwriting,\n Who one time, for his \u201cstomach\u2019s sake,\u201d\n Bade Timothy the wine cup take;\n Stay now this Water Fiend\u2019s advance\n And save thy servant Temperance,\n Ere Abstinence, that glum wet-nurse\n Of Dire Dyspepsia, Chills, and worse,\n Blow out the Lights of Love and Mirth,\n And so asphyxiate the Earth.\n\n\n\n\nTO MY TOY CANARY\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Wee saffron sage,\n Make-believe bird, fluffy, absurd,\n In mimic cage\n Through beady eyes you scrutinize\n A Noisy Age.\n\n You boast no \u201cTree,\u201d\n No painted shell your Natal Cell,\n Your Pedigree,\n Neatly displayed, reads simply, \u201cMade\n In Germany.\u201d\n\n What do I care\n Tho\u2019 to fresh seed you pay no heed--\n Since on Plain Air\n You gayly feast? Of that at least\n I have to spare.\n\n You do not pour\n From your wide bill a gladsome trill,\n Thanks be, therefore!\n The best of tune, repeated, soon\n Becomes a bore!\n\n You simply stare\n When I exclaim \u201cWilhelm\u201d (your name);\n You do not care\n For William Hohenzollern, tho\u2019\n His name you bear.\n\n What would you say\n If William the Unsilent, he\n Should come your way?\n And fume, and pout, and storm--and shout,\n \u201cL\u00e8se-Majest\u00e9!\u201d\n\n \u2019Twould vex his pride\n To see you hold that Gift of Gold\n To him denied--\n \u201cSilence,\u201d the sole and only r\u00f4le\n He has not tried.\n\n Fear not his grim,\n Imperial ire; no torture dire,\n No dungeon dim,\n Your fate shall be: This land is free--\n At least from him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n Wee saffron sage,\n Pipe all day long your silent song\n While by your cage,\n Musing, I let my soul forget\n The Noisy Age.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HAND OF TIME\n\n[Illustration]\n\n She dreams beneath lamplight pale,\n Like Beauty in the fairy-tale\n Of Messrs. Grimm.\n And as I gaze, behold, a Thing,\n A shape, a face white, menacing,\n Hangs o\u2019er her \u2019mid a ghostly ring\n Of figures dim.\n\n Now o\u2019er the figures dark I see\n A hand which moves relentlessly,\n Remorseless, black.\n The hand of Time--and through me flit\n The Solemn words by Omar writ,\n \u201cNot all your piety nor wit\n Can lure it back.\u201d\n\n She sighs, she stirs, her lids unclose\n Like petals of a pearly rose\n After the rain.\n And as she notes, with startled eye,\n The Station Clock, I hear her cry,\n \u201cIt\u2019s twenty minutes past--oh, my!\n I\u2019ve missed my train.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n_ENVOI_\n\n \u201c_Oh, Winter, must you leave so soon?\u201d\n Said Spring as Winter turned to go.\n \u201cIf only you could stay till June,\n And help to make my garden grow._\u201d\n\n _So back again that night he goes\n To see the flowers, how they grow.\n Poor things, they looked so cold, he throws\n O\u2019er them a coverlet--of snow._\n\n _Next morning Spring was full of woe\n To find her flowers frozen--dead.\n \u201cThe Fool I never thought he\u2019d go\n And take me at my word,\u201d she said._\n\n\n\n\n TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been\n corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within\n the text and consultation of external sources.\n\n Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,\n and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.\n\n Pg 9: \u2018too and fro\u2019 replaced by \u2018to and fro\u2019.\n Pg 24: \u2018for Ade halloo\u2019 has not been changed, but probably meant\n to be \u2018for Aide halloo\u2019.\n Pg 94: \u2018H^2O\u2019 (with superscript) replaced by \u2018H_{2}O\u2019 (subscript).","title":"The Fairy Godmother-in-law","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":6151}