CAUTIONARY VERSES

My little dears, who learn to read, pray early, learn to shun
That very silly thing indeed which people call a pun;

Read Entick's rules, and 'twill be found how simple an offence
It is to make the selfsame sound afford a double sense.

For instance, ale may make you ail, your aunt an ant may kill,
You in a vale may buy a veil and Bill may pay the bill.
Or if to France your bark you steer, at Dover it may be
A peer appears upon the pier, who blind, still goes to sea.

Thus, one might say, when, to a treat, good friends accept our greeting,
'Tis meet that men who meet to eat should eat their meat when meeting;
Brawn on the board's no bore indeed, although from boar prepared;
Nor can the fowl on which we feed, foul feeding be declared.

Thus one ripe fruit may be a pear, and yet be pared again,
And still be one, which seemeth rare until we do explain.
It therefore should be all your aim to speak with ample care,
For who, however fond of game, would choose to swallow hair?

A fat man's gait may make us smile, who have no gate to close;
The farmer sitting on his stile no stylish person knows.
Perfumers men of scents must be; some Scilly men are bright;
A brown man oft deep read we see, a black a wicked wight.

Most wealthy men good manors have, however vulgar they;
And actors still the harder slave the oftener they play;

So poets can't the baize obtain, unless their tailors choose;
While grooms and coachmen, not in vain, each evening seek the Mews.

The dyer, who by dyeing lives, a dire life maintains;
The glazier, it is known, receives his profits for his panes;
By gardeners thyme is tied, 'tis true, when spring is in its prime,
But time or tide won't wait for you if you are tied for time.

Then now you see, my little dears, the way to make a pun;
A trick which you, through coming years, should sedulously shun;
The fault admits of no defence; for wheresoe'er 'tis found,
You sacrifice for sound the sense; the sense is never sound.

So let your words and actions too, one single meaning prove,
And, just in all you say or do, you'll gain esteem and love;
In mirth and play no harm you'll know when duty's task is done,
But parents ne'er should let you go unpunished for a pun!

For parlor recitation.

THEODORE HOOK.

GOOD JAMES AND NAUGHTY REGINALD

Once upon a Time there was a Bad boy whose Name was Reginald and there was a Good boy whose Name was James. Reginald would go Fishing when his Mamma told him Not to, and he Cut off the Cat's Tail with the Bread Knife one Day, and then told Mamma the Baby had Driven it in with the Rolling Pin, which was a Lie. James was always Obedient, and when his Mamma told him not to Help an old Blind Man across the street or Go into a Dark Room where the Boogies were, he always Did What She said. That is why they Called him Good James. Well, by and by, along Came Christmas. Mamma said, You have been Reginald, you will ents from Santa but you, my Son Oodles of Presents, Been Good. Will Children, that Bad he didn't Care a Kicked three Feet the Piano just for James was so sorry he cried for Half Went to Bed that lay wide Awake unwas Asleep and these people think they are Mistaken.

so Bad, my son not Get any PresClaus this Year; James, will get because you have you Believe it, boy Reginald said Darn and he of Veneering off Meanness. Poor for Reginald that an Hour after he Night. Reginald til he saw James then he Said if they can Fool me, Just then Santa

Claus came down the Chimney. He had lots of Pretty Toys in a Sack on his
Back. Reginald shut his Eyes and Pretended to be Asleep. Then Santa Claus
Said, Reginald is Bad and 1 will not Put any nice Things in his Stocking. But
as for you, James, I will Fill your Stocking Plumb full of Toys, because You are
Good. So Santa Claus went to Work and Put, Oh! heaps and Heaps of Goodies in
James' stocking but not a Sign of a Thing in Reginald's stocking. And then he
Laughed to himself and Said, I guess Reginald will be sorry to-morrow because
he Was so Bad. As he said this he Crawled up the chimney and rode off in his
Sleigh. Now you can Bet your Boots Reginald was no Spring Chicken. He just
Got right Straight out of Bed and changed all those Toys and Truck from James'
stocking into his own. Santa Claus will Have to Sit up all Night, said He, when
he Expects to get away with my Baggage. The next morning James got out of
Bed and when He had Said his Prayers he Limped over to his Stocking, lick-
ing his chops and Carrying his Head as High as a Bull going through a Brush
Fence. But when he found there was Nothing in his stocking and that Reginald's
Stocking was as Full as Papa Is when he comes home Late from the Office, he
Sat down on the Floor and began to Wonder why on Earth he had Been such a
Good boy. Reginald spent a Happy Christmas and James was very Miserable.
After all, Children, it Pays to be Bad, so Long as you Combine Intellect with
Crime.
EUGENE FIELD.

ARE WOMEN FAIR?

"Are women fair?" Ay, wondrous fair to see, too.
"Are women sweet?" Yea, passing sweet they be, too.
Most fair and sweet to them that only love them;
Chaste and discreet to all save them that prove them.

"Are women wise?" Not wise, but they be witty;
"Are women witty?" Yea, the more the pity;
They are so witty, and in wit so wily,

Though ye be ne'er so wise, they will beguile ye.

"Are women fools?" Not fools, but fondlings many;
"Can women fond be faithful unto any?"

When snow-white swans do turn to colour sable,
Then women fond will be both firm and stable.

"Are women saints?" No saints, nor yet no devils;
"Are women good?" Not good, but needful evils.
So Angel-like, that devils I do not doubt them,
So needful evils that few can live without them.

"Are women proud?" Ay! passing proud, an praise them.
"Are women kind?" Ay! wondrous kind, an please them.
Or so imperious, no man can endure them,
Or so kind-hearted, any may procure them.

Are women people?

FRANCIS DAVISON.

THE PICKERLICK

Tell me, oh, Pickerlick, that 'round my pathway roars,
Do ye not know some way to pickle cellar-doors?

Or tell me, if you please, what method is the best
To make a Stilton cheese put on a speckled vest."
The Pickerlick gnawed at a piece of soap,
And sneezed sedately as it answered, "Nope."

"Tell me, oh, Pickerlick, prick up thine hard-boiled ears,
Why did you hang salt fish on the chandeliers?
Why did you let the cat wear yellow bombazine?

And offer to the Duke a single fried sardine?"
The Pickerlick extremely winked his eye,
And in a minor key he warbled "Pie!"

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