Make Fun Of Life! - Nonsense

The Whango Tree

2/20/2022

Picture of a distressed bird perched on a thorn-covered branch in a tree

The Whango Tree

The woggly bird sat on the whango tree,
     Nooping the rinkum corn,
And graper and graper, alas! grew he,
     And cursed the day he was born.
His crute was clum and his voice was rum,
     As curiously thus sang he,
“Oh, would I’d been rammed and eternally clammed
     Ere I perched on this whango tree.”

Now the whango tree had a bubbly thorn,
     As sharp as a nootie’s bill,
And it stuck in the woggly bird’s umptum lorn
     And weepadge, the smart did thrill.
He fumbled and cursed, but that wasn’t the worst,
     For he couldn’t at all get free,
And he cried, “I am gammed, and injustibly nammed
     On the luggardly whango tree.”

And there he sits still, with no worm in his bill,
     Nor no guggledom in his nest;
He is hungry and bare, and gobliddered with care,
     And his grabbles give him no rest;
He is weary and sore and his tugmut is soar,
     And nothing to glob has he,
As he chirps, “I am blammed and corruptibly jammed,
     In this cuggerdom whango tree.”

by Author Unknown (1840): as published in Carolyn Wells: “The Nonsense Book” (1910)

Robinson Crusoe

6/28/2021

Picture of a tropical island covered with palm trees and sandy beaches, surrounded by an ocean of calm blue water

Robinson Crusoe

     The night was thick and hazy
     When the Piccadilly Daisy
Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
     And I think the water drowned ’em,
     For they never, never found ’em,
And I know they didn’t come ashore with me.

     Oh! ‘twas very sad and lonely
     When I found myself the only
Population on this cultivated shore;
     But I’ve made a little tavern
     In a rocky little cavern,
And I sit and watch for people at the door.

     I spent no time in looking
     For a girl to do my cooking,
As I’m quite a clever hand at making stews;
     But I had that fellow Friday
     Just to keep the tavern tidy,
And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes.

     I have a little garden
     That I’m cultivating lard in,
As the things I eat are rather tough and dry;
     For I live on toasted lizards,
     Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards,
And I’m really very fond of beetle-pie.

     The clothes I had were furry,
     And it made me fret and worry
When I found the moths were eating off the hair;
     And I had to scrape and sand ’em,
     And I boiled ’em and I tanned ’em,
Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.

     I sometimes seek diversion
     In a family excursion
With the few domestic animals you see;
     And we take along a carrot
     As refreshments for the parrot,
And a little can of jungleberry tea.

     Then we gather as we travel
     Bits of moss and dirty gravel,
And we chip off little specimens of stone;
     And we carry home as prizes
     Funny bugs of handy sizes,
Just to give the day a scientific tone.

     If the roads are wet and muddy
     We remain at home and study, -
For the Goat is very clever at a sum, -
     And the Dog, instead of fighting,
     Studies ornamental writing,
While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum.

     We retire at eleven,
     And we rise again at seven;
And I wish to call attention as I close,
     To the fact that all the scholars
     Are correct about their collars,
And particular in turning out their toes.

by Charles E. Carryl

Charles Edward Carryl was born on 30 December 1841 in New York, United States of America. He was married to Mary Wetmore in 1869. He became a businessman, a stockbroker, and a writer of children’s literature. Charles Edward Carryl passed on at 78 years of age on 3 July 1920.

Scintillate, Scintillate, Globule Vivific

6/28/2021

Picture of night sky filled with stars above a line of silhouetted trees.

Scintillate, Scintillate, Globule Vivific
(An Obfuscation of the Traditional Words and Tune)

Scintillate, scintillate, globule vivific
     Fain would I fathom thy nature specific
Loftily poised in the ether capacious
     Strongly resembling a gem carbonaceous!

When torrid Phoebus removeth his presence
     Ceasing to lamp us with fierce incandescence
Then you illumine the regions supernal
     Scintillate, scintillate, semper nocturnal.

The traveler on lusterless peregrination
     Gratefully hails your minute coruscation
He could not determine his journey’s direction
     But for your bright scintillating protection.

by Author Unknown

The above work is a parody, or imitation for humorous purposes, of the poem and song, “The Star” by Jane Taylor, which is shown on the Nature Page under the World Page on the Make Fun Of Life! Website.

Vocabulary and Spelling Words

• Capacious, adjective: vast; spacious.
• Carbonaceous, adjective: said chiefly of rocks or sediments, consisting of or containing carbon or its compounds, as for example, diamonds and coal.
• Coruscation, verb: to reflect or emanate light; to sparkle or glitter.
• Ether, noun: the clear sky; the upper regions of air beyond the clouds.
• Fain, adverb: with pleasure; gladly.
• Fathom, verb: understand after much thought, as for example, a difficult problem or an enigmatic person.
• Globule, noun: a small round particle of a substance; a drop.
• Incandescence, noun: the emission of radiation, as for example, light, from something of intense heat, such as fire or a star.
• Loftily, adjective: extending high into the atmosphere or sky.
• Lusterless, adjective: not bright or shiny; dull.
• Obfuscate, verb: render obscure, unclear, or unintelligible; to deliberately make something confusing.
• Peregrination, noun: a journey, especially one that is long and meandering, often on foot.
• Phoebus, noun: also known as Apollo; a character in Greek and Roman mythology.
• Poised, adjective: having a composed and self-assured manner.
• Scintillate, verb: to emit flashes of light; sparkle.
• Semper, adverb: Latin word, meaning always.
• Supernal, adjective: relating to the sky or heavens; celestial.
• Torrid, adjective: full of difficulty or tribulation; very hot and dry.
• Vivific, adjective: imparting spirit or vivacity.

Disclaimer: Definitions for words shown reflect their meaning within the work; some words may have additional meanings and usages beyond those given. Persons having concerns pertaining to this matter may wish to consult a professional grammarian or other expert in the various fields of languages and linguistics. We are not responsible for any misuse of words or resulting consequences from said misuse.

The Walloping Window-Blind

6/10/2021

Picture of a 5-masted schooner, a type of sailing ship, close to shore.

The Walloping Window-Blind

A capital ship for an ocean trip
     Was the ‘Walloping Window-Blind’ -
No gale that blew dismayed her crew
     Or troubled the captain’s mind.
The man at the wheel was taught to feel
     Contempt for the wildest blow,
And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared,
     That he’d been in his bunk below.

The boatswain’s mate was very sedate,
     Yet fond of amusement, too;
And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch,
     While the captain tickled the crew.
And the gunner we had was apparently mad,
     For he sat on the after rail,
And fired salutes with the captain’s boots,
     In the teeth of the booming gale.

The captain sat in a commodore’s hat
     And dined in a royal way
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
     And gummery bread each day.
But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such:
     For the food that he gave the crew
Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns
     Chopped up with sugar and glue.

And we all felt ill as mariners will,
     On a diet that’s cheap and rude;
And we shivered and shook as we dipped the cook
     In a tub of his gluesome food.
Then nautical pride we laid aside,
     And we cast the vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles,
     And the Anagazanders roar.

Composed of sand was that favored land,
     And trimmed with cinnamon straws;
And pink and blue was the pleasing hue
     Of the Tickletoeteaser’s claws.
And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge
     And shot at the whistling bee;
And the Binnacle-bats wore water-proof hats
     As they danced in the sounding sea.

On rubagub bark, from dawn to dark,
     We fed, till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk, - when a Chinese junk
     Came by from the torriby zone.
She was stubby and square, but we didn’t much care,
     And we cheerily put to sea;
And we left the crew of the junk to chew
     The bark of the rubagub tree.

by Charles E. Carryl (1885); type of work: nonsense poem

Charles Edward Carryl was born on 30 December 1841 in New York, United States of America. He was married to Mary Wetmore in 1869. He became a businessman, a stockbroker, and a writer of children’s literature. Charles Edward Carryl passed on at 78 years of age on 3 July 1920.

I Would If I Could

12/23/2020

I Would If I Could

I would, if I could;
     If I couldn’t, though, how could I?
I couldn’t without I could, could I?
     Could you, without you could?
Could ye? could ye? could ye?
     You couldn’t without you could, could ye?
Oh that I were where I would be!
     Then should I be where I am not;
But where I am, there I must be,
     And where I would be I can not.
But, I would, if I could and I would be;
     There where I am when I’m not.
Could ye? could ye? could ye?
     Be there where you are when you’re not?
Be there where you are when you’re not?
     Could ye? could ye? could ye?

by Author Unknown

The Optimistic Skipper

8/5/2020

The Optimistic Skipper

The skipper of the Mary Ann, a jolly chap is he;
     With jaunty jest and merriment he gaily sails the sea.
He knows no navigation and he missed his course a mile,
     But said, “It doesn’t matter, so long as I can smile.”
He ran against an island, and he almost sank the ship -
      “Well, never mind!” he brightly said, “we’ll have a cheerful trip.”
He did not see the gathering storm, but roared a sprightly song.
      “O sailors, keep a-singing, and the way will not be long!”

The tempest blew him eastward and the tempest blew him west;
     Whatever way he travelled, he liked that way the best.
He lost his course entirely, but he never lost his grin;
     Said he, “The bark of laughter is the ship to travel in!”
And somewhere on the ocean, from the tropics to the pole,
     The storms are still a-buffeting that optimistic soul.
He knows no navigation, but, “What’s the odds?” asks he,
      “So long as I am sailing on the top side of the sea?”

by Author Unknown

Hide and Seek

11/24/2019

Hide and Seek

When I am alone,
     and quite alone,
I play a game,
     and it’s all my own.

I hide myself
     Behind myself,
And then I try
     To find myself.

I hide in the closet,
     Where no one can see;
Then I start looking
     Around for me.

I hide myself
     And look for myself;
There once was a shadow
     I took for myself.

I hide in a corner;
     I hide in the bed;
And when I come near me
     I pull in my head!

by A. B. Shiffrin

Extremes

8/10/2019

Extremes

A little boy once played so loud
     That the thunder, up in a thundercloud,
Said, “Since I can’t be heard, why then
     I’ll never, never thunder again!”

And a little girl once kept so still
     That she heard a fly on the window sill
Whisper and say to a ladybird -
      “She’s the stillest child I ever heard!”

by James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley was born on 7 October 1849 in a two-room cabin in Greenfield, Indiana, United States of America. He became a writer and a poet. His poems tended to be humorous or sentimental, and of the approximately one thousand poems that he wrote, the majority are in dialect. His best-known works include “Little Orphant Annie” and “The Raggedy Man.” He served on the staff of the “Indianapolis Journal” newspaper. James Whitcomb Riley passed on at 66 years of age on 22 July 1916 in Indianapolis, Indiana, United States of America.

The Reformation of Godfrey Gore

4/9/2019

The Reformation of Godfrey Gore

Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore -
No doubt you have heard the name before -
Was a boy who never would shut a door!

The wind might whistle, the wind might roar,
And teeth be aching and throats be sore,
But still he never would shut the door.

His father would beg, his mother implore,
“Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
We really do wish you would shut the door!”

Their hands they wrung, their hair they tore;
But Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
Was deaf as the buoy out at the Nore.

When he walked forth the folks would roar,
“Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
Why don’t you think to shut the door?”

They rigged out a Shutter with sail and oar,
And threatened to pack off Gustavus Gore
On a voyage of penance to Singapore.

But he begged for mercy, and said, “No more!
Pray do not send me to Singapore
On a Shutter, and then I will shut the door!”

“You will?” said his parents; “then keep on shore!
But mind you do! For the plague is sore
Of a fellow that never will shut the door,
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore!”

by William Brighty Rands

William Brighty Rands was born on 24 December 1823 in Chelsea, London, England. He became a writer and a poet. He is known for his many nursery rhymes. William Brighty Rands passed on at 58 years of age on 23 April 1882 in East Dulwich, London, England.

A Kind Headed Statue

12/10/2018

A Kind Headed Statue

The quiet little Transvaal,
     On peaceful profit bent,
Was ruled by wise Paul Kruger
     Its farmer president.
So stoutly had he carried
     The burdens on him laid,
The grateful Boers decided
     To have his statue made.
Their plans were quite completed, -
     A statue big and tall,
So set that all the city
     Might see the great “Oom Paul.”
But first, - as was a proper
     And gracious thing to do, -
They called on Mrs. Kruger,
     To get her notions, too.

Then spoke that royal woman,
     With simple, kind intent:
“Be sure to put a hat, sirs,
     Upon the president;
And hollow out the top, please,
     That rain may fill it up,
“And all the birds may find it
     A useful drinking-cup!”
So spoke dear Mrs Kruger.
     And gratefully, I think,

The birds will sing her praises
     Whene’er they take a drink.
Ah, happy is the nation
     Whose ruler cares for men;
And if his wife takes thought for birds,
     Why, it is blest again!

by Author Unknown

Nonsense

11/16/2018

We do declare that to be such wonderful nonsense . . .

To Be or Not to Be

I sometimes think I’d rather crow
     And be a rooster than to roost
And be a crow. But I dunno.
     A rooster he can roost also,
Which don’t seem fair when crows can’t crow.
     Which may help some. Still I dunno.
Crows should be glad of one thing, though;
     Nobody thinks of eating crow,
While roosters they are good enough
     For anyone unless they’re tough.
There are lots of tough old roosters, though,
     And anyway a crow can’t crow,
So mebby roosters stand more show.
     It looks that way. But I dunno.

by Author Unknown

“Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.” -Noam Chomsky (Avram Noam Chomsky (born 1928)): “Syntactic Structures” (1957); an example of a sentence that is grammatically correct yet meaningless

Moorlands of the Not

Across the moorlands of the Not
     We chase the gruesome When;
And hunt the Itness of the What
     Through forests of the Then.
Into the Inner Consciousness
     We track the crafty Where;
We spear the Ego tough, and beard
     The Selfhood in his lair.

With lassos of the brain we catch
     The Isness of the Was;
And in the copses* of the Whence
     We hear the think bees buzz.
We climb the slippery Whichbark tree
     To watch the Thusness roll
And pause betimes in gnostic rimes
     To woo the Over Soul.

by Author Unknown
*copses: a small groups of trees

“Yally Bally had a jolly golliwog. Feeling folly, Yally Bally bought his jolly golliwog a dolly made of holly. The golliwog, feeling jolly, named the holly dollie Polly. So Yally Bally’s jolly golliwog’s holly dollie Polly’s also jolly!” -Author Unknown

“To appreciate nonsense requires a serious interest in life.” -Gelett Burgess (Frank Gelett Burgess (1866 - 1951)): “The Romance of the Commonplace” (1902), ‘The Sense of Humor’

I love to stand upon my head
     And think of things sublime
Until my mother interrupts
     And says it’s dinner-time.
by Author Unknown

“Nothing is capable to being well set to music that is not nonsense.” -Joseph Addison (1672 - 1719): as quoted in “The Spectator” (21 March 1711), Number 18

The Moon Is Up

The Moon is up, the Moon is up!
     The larks begin to fly,
And, like a drowsy buttercup,
     Dark Phoebus skims the sky,
The elephant, with cheerful voice,
     Sings blithely on the spray;
The bats and beetles all rejoice,
     Then let me, too, be gay.

I would I were a porcupine,
     And wore a peacock’s tail;
To-morrow, if the Moon but shine,
     Perchance I’ll be a whale.
Then let me, like the cauliflower,
     Be merry while I may,
And, ere there comes a sunny hour
     To cloud my heart, be gay!

by Author Unknown

“If half the road was made of jam,
     The other half of bread,
How very nice my walks would be,”
     The greedy infant said.
by Author Unknown

“Nonsense wakes up the brain cells. And it helps develop a sense of humor, which is awfully important in this day and age.” -Doctor Seuss (pseudonym of Theodor Seuss Geisel (1904 - 1991)): as quoted in ‘Author Isn’t Just a Cat in the Hat’ by Miles Corwin, published in “The Los Angeles Times” (27 November 1983); also in Philip Nel: “Dr. Seuss: American Icon” (2004), page 38

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Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The mouse ran up the clock,
The clock struck one, and down he run,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The bird looked at the clock,
The clock struck two, and away she flew,
     Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The dog barked at the clock,
The clock struck three, fiddle-de-dee,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The bear slept on the clock,
The clock struck four, he ran out the door,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The bee buzzed round the clock,
The clock struck five, she went to her hive,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The hen clucked at the clock,
The clock struck six, fiddle-sticks,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The cat ran round the clock,
The clock struck seven, she wanted to get ’em,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The horse jumped over the clock,
The clock struck eight, he ate some cake,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The cow danced on the clock,
The clock struck nine, she felt so fine,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The pig oinked at the clock,
The clock struck ten, she did it again,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The snake squirmed out of the clock,
The clock struck eleven, he said, “Let me get in,”
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

Hickory Dickory Dock,
     The snail slimed up the clock,
The clock struck twelve, what a sticky self,
     Hickory Dickory Dock!

by Author Unknown

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“Don’t, for Heaven’s sake, be afraid of talking nonsense! But you must pay attention to your nonsense.” -Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889 - 1951): “On Certainty” (German: “Über Gewissheit”) (1969), page 56

I Always Sneeze

Franks and fries, and French fondue
     Beans and burgers and biscuits, too
Chicken, chili, and cheddar cheese
     When I munch too much, I always sneeze!

by Author Unknown

Riddle: If it takes a woodpecker eight months to peck a four-inch hole in a tree, how long would it take a grasshopper to kick all the seeds out of a pickle four inches long?
Solution: There is no answer for this ridiculous riddle!

“Nonsense is the oddly appealing stuff that makes more or less sense than stuff that either makes sense or makes no sense.” -Nathan Thomas Taylor (born 1966)

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee

Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee
     Resolved to have a battle,
For Tweedle-dum said Tweedle-dee
     Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
Just then flew by a monstrous crow,
     As big as a tar-barrel,
Which frightened both the heroes so
     They quite forgot their quarrel.

by Author Unknown

“I conclude that there is as much sense in nonsense as there is nonsense in sense.” -Anthony Burgess (pseudonym of John Burgess Wilson (1917 - 1993)): “New York Times Book Review” (9 August 1987)

King Arthur

When good King Arthur ruled the land,
     He was a goodly king:
He stole three pecks of barley meal,
     To make a bag-pudding.
A bag-pudding the king did make,
     And stuffed it well with plums;
And in it put great lumps of fat,
     As big as my two thumbs.
The king and queen did eat thereof,
     And noblemen beside;
And what they could not eat that night,
     The queen next morning fried.

by Author Unknown

“Whenever you come near the human race, there’s layers and layers of nonsense.” -Thornton Wilder (Thornton Niven Wilder (1897 - 1975)): “Our Town” (1938)

Three Acres of Land

My father left me three acres of land,
     Sing ivy, sing ivy;
My father left me three acres of land,
     Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!

I ploughed it with a ram’s horn,
     Sing ivy, sing ivy;
And sowed it all over with one peppercorn.
     Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!

I harrowed it with a bramble bush,
     Sing ivy, sing ivy;
And reaped it with my little penknife,
     Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!

I got the mice to carry it to the barn,
     Sing ivy, sing ivy;
And thrashed it with a goose’s quill,
     Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!

I got the cat to carry it to the mill,
     Sing ivy, sing ivy;
The miller he swore he would have her paw,
And the cat she swore she would scratch his face,
     Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!

by Author Unknown

“The nonsense that charms is close to sense.” -Mason Cooley (1927 - 2002): “City Aphorisms, Eleventh Selection” (1993)

“There are two ways of dealing with nonsense in this world. One is to put nonsense in the right place; as when people put nonsense into nursery rhymes. The other is to put nonsense in the wrong place; as when they put it into educational addresses, psychological criticisms, and complaints against nursery rhymes or other normal amusements of mankind.” -G. K. Chesterton (Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874 - 1936)): “Child Psychology and Nonsense” (15 October 1921)

A Riddle

The man in the wilderness asked of me
     How many strawberries grew in the sea.
I answered him as I thought good,
     As many as red herrings grow in the wood.

by Author Unknown

“No one is exempt from talking nonsense; the misfortune is to do it solemnly.” -Michel de Montaigne (Michel Eyquem de Montaigne (1533 - 1592)): “Essays” (March 1580) Book III, Chapter I

A little nonsense now and then
     Is relished by the wisest men.
by Author Unknown

Mingle a little folly with your wisdom;
a little nonsense now and then is pleasant.
[English translation]
Misce stultitiam consiliis brevem:
Dulce est desipere in loco.
[original Latin]
-Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus (65 B.C.E. - 8 B.C.E.)): “Carmina,” Book IV, Ode 12, line 27

If

If all the land were apple-pie,
     And all the sea were ink;
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
     What should we do for drink?

by Author Unknown

“‘Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.” -Charles Lamb

A Song on King William III

As I walked by myself,
     And talked to myself,
Myself said unto me,
     Look to thyself,
Take care of thyself,
     For nobody cares for thee.

I answered myself,
     And said to myself,
In the self-same repartee,
     Look to thyself,
Or not look to thyself,
     The selfsame thing will be.

by Author Unknown

“Forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those who think they talk sense.” -Robert Frost: letter (7 August 1915) to Louis Untermeyer

“Nonsense and beauty have close connections - closer connections than Art will allow.” -E. M. Forster: “The Longest Journey” (1907), Part I, Chapter 12

Lines by a Medium

I might not, if I could;
     I should not, if I might;
Yet if I should I would,
     And, shoulding, I should quite!

I must not, yet I may;
     I can, and still I must;
But ah! I cannot - nay,
     To must I may not, just!

I shall, although I will,
     But be it understood,
If I may, can, shall - still
     I might, could, would, or should!

by Author Unknown

“It is a far, far better thing to have a firm anchor in nonsense than to put out on the troubled seas of thought.” -John Kenneth Galbraith: “The Affluent Society” (1958), Chapter 11, section iv

This is ‘MFOL!’ . . . the best bunch of nonsense on the web . . . remember, it is not a waste of time and effort if it brings a smile to someone’s face . . .

The Gloop Maker

11/14/2018

The Gloop Maker

There once was a sailor returning to his ship. Just as he approached the edge of the dock, he slipped and fell into the water between ship and dockside. As he hit the water, the ship began to swing toward the harbor wall, and he would have been crushed to death had not a little man, with great presence of mind, thrown a rope and hauled him to safety.

“Whew, thanks!” said the sailor. “You saved my life. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you in return?”

“Well actually,” said the man, “there is something. I’d really like to work aboard a ship and, in fact, I was just on my way to look for a job when I saw you in the water. If you could, put in a word for me. I’d be greatly obliged.”

“It is as good as done!” said the sailor. He took the little man on board and tracked down the Petty Officer. “This man saved my life just now, and he really would very much like to have a job on the ship.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said the Petty Officer. “We have a full ship’s complement, but I’ll certainly put in a word on his behalf to my superior. What does he do?”

“I’m a Gloop Maker,” said the little man eagerly.

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Petty Officer didn’t want to ask what exactly a Gloop Maker was, so he went to see the Chief Petty Officer.

“This man saved the life of one of my sailors,” he told the Chief. “Do you think we could find him a job aboard? He’s a Gloop Maker.”

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Chief Petty Officer asked the Warrant Officer, who asked the Sub-Lieutenant and so on, all the way through the chain of command until the request reached the Captain. After congratulating the little man, the Captain, not wanting to appear ignorant, named him ship’s Gloop Maker and ordered the Supply Officer to provide whatever materials were necessary for work to commence.

The little man asked for a strong block and tackle fitted up on the afterdeck, a small stool, a hammer and chisel, a portable furnace, a big lump of iron, a few pounds of copper, and several more of silver.

As the ship sailed, the little man set his stool alongside the chunk of iron, lit the furnace, and began to melt down the copper and silver. Then, with much hammering and chiseling, he began to add blobs of copper and curlicues of silver to the sides of the lump of iron.

Each day crewmembers stopped and stared at the wondrously strange thing taking shape at the ship’s stern. But not wishing to appear ignorant, nobody asked the Gloop Maker what he actually was making.

“Coming along nicely,” said the captain as he made his daily rounds. “Any idea precisely when it will be ready?”

“Oh yes,” said the man. “On 15 July at 1400 hours. That’s when it’ll be ready, and I’d like the crew assembled on deck at that hour, if you please, sir.”

And so, the great day came, the men assembled and the Gloop Maker put down his hammer and chisel. Proudly he stood back and indicated that the block and tackle should be lowered onto his masterpiece, with copper and silver curlicues gleaming in the sun. Carefully he directed it to be lifted from the deck and swung round until it hung over the sea at the ship’s stern.

“Ready, steady, go!” he cried, and he cut it free. And, as it fell into the deep blue waters of the Atlantic it went, “Gloop!”

The End - But wait, there is much more nonsense just below!

Ferry Me Across the Water

10/30/2018

Ferry Me Across the Water

“Ferry me across the water,
     Do, boatman, do.”
“If you’ve a penny in your purse
     I’ll ferry you.”

“I have a penny in my purse,
     And my eyes are blue;
So ferry me across the water,
     Do, boatman, do.”

“Step into my ferry-boat,
     Be they black or blue,
And for the penny in your purse
     I’ll ferry you.”

by Christina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti was born on 5 December 1830 in London, England. She became a poet. She is known for “Goblin Market” and “Remember,” among other works. Christina Georgina Rossetti passed on at 64 years of age on 29 December 1894 in London, England.

Teddy Bear

10/5/2018

Teddy Bear

A bear, however hard he tries,
     Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
     Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
     By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
     The energy to clamber back.

Now tubbiness is just the thing
     Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
     The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: “If only I were thin!
     But how does anyone begin?”
He thought: “It really isn’t fair
     To grudge me exercise and air.”

For many weeks he pressed in vain
     His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
     Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
      “Is quite” (he said) “as fat as me!”
Then with a still more moving sigh,
      “I mean” (he said) “as fat as I!”

Now Teddy, as was only right,
     Slept in the ottoman at night,
And with him crowded in as well
     More animals than I can tell;
Not only these, but books and things,
     Such as a kind relation brings -
Old tales of, “Once upon a time,”
     And history retold in rhyme.

One night it happened that he took
     A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
     The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
     These words: “King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed ‘The Handsome!’ “There he sat,
     And (think of it) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything
     To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed the “Handsome.” Not a doubt
     The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
     Might yet be named, “The Handsome Cub!”

“Might yet be named.” Or did he mean
     That years ago he “might have been”?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
      “Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way
     Of altering from day to day.
Is ‘Handsome Louis’ with us yet?
     Unfortunately I forget.”

Next morning (nose to window-pane)
     The doubt occurred to him again.
One question hammered in his head:
      “Is he alive or is he dead?”
Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
     The lattice window, loosely shut,
Swung open. With one startled “Oh!”
     Our Teddy disappeared below.

There happened to be passing by
     A plump man with a twinkling eye,
Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
     Raised him politely on his feet,
And murmured kindly in his ear
     Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
“Well, well!” “Allow me!” “Not at all.”
      “Tut-tut!” A very nasty fall.”

Our Teddy answered not a word;
     It’s doubtful if he even heard.
Our bear could only look and look:
     The stout man in the picture-book!
That “handsome” King - could this be he,
     This man of adiposity?
“Impossible,” he thought. “But still,
     No harm in asking. Yes, I will!”

“Are you,” he said, “by any chance
     His Majesty the King of France?”
The other answered, “I am that,”
     Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
Then said, “Excuse me,” with an air
      “But is it Mr. Edward Bear?”
And Teddy, bending very low,
     Replied politely, “Even so!”

They stood beneath the window there,
     The King and Mr. Edward Bear,
And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
     Talked carelessly of this and that . . .
Then said His Majesty, “Well, well,
     I must get on,” and rang the bell.
“Your bear, I think,” he smiled. “Good-day!”
     And turned, and went upon his way.

A bear, however hard he tries,
     Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
     Which is not to be wondered at.
But do you think it worries him
     To know that he is far from slim?
No, just the other way about -
     He’s proud of being short and stout.

by A. A. Milne

Alan Alexander Milne, also known as A. A. Milne, was born on 18 January 1882 in Kilburn, London, England. He became a novelist, a playwright, and a poet. He is known as the author of the book about a teddy bear titled, “Winnie the Pooh” (1926). Alan Alexander Milne passed on at 74 years of age on 31 January 1956 in Hartfield, Sussex, England.

Strictly Germ-Proof

10/3/2018

Strictly Germ-Proof

The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup
     Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up;
They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised; -
     It wasn’t Disinfected and it wasn’t Sterilized.

They said it was a Microbe and a Hotbed of Disease;
     They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees;
They froze it in a freezer that was cold as Banished Hope
     And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap.

In sulphurated hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears;
     They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears;
They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand
     And elected it a member of the Fumigated Band.

There’s not a Micrococcus in the garden where they play;
     They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day;
And each imbibes his rations from a Hygienic Cup -
     The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup.

by Arthur Guiterman (1906)

Vocabulary
- Prophylactic: Disease-preventing.
- Permanganate: A salt of permanganic acid.
- Carbolated soap: A salt of carbolic acid.
- Micrococcus: Spherical bacterium, usually found on the skin of mammals.
- Iodoform: Compound of iodine used as an antiseptic.

Arthur Guiterman was born on 20 November 1871 in Vienna, Austria to American parents. He became an American writer and poet, as well as an editor of the “Woman’s Home Companion” and the “Literary Digest.” Arthur Guiterman passed on at 71 years of age on 11 January 1943.

I’d Like to Be a Lighthouse

9/30/2018

I’d Like to Be a Lighthouse

I’d like to be a lighthouse
     All scrubbed and painted white.
I’d like to be a lighthouse
     And stay awake all night
To keep my eye on everything
     That sails my patch of sea;
I’d like to be a lighthouse
     With the ships all watching me.

by Rachel Lyman Field

Whimsy on Doors

9/14/2018

Whimsy on Doors

Doors are a wonderful invention
second to the wheel! Open one
at certain times and you will let fresh air in,
a guest as sweet as Spring, which has been
walking among flowers or marshes. If a gush
of Winter comes, you can - in a rush -
close it quickly with a fervent bang!
You’ll like doors - once you get the hang
of how they work! They have the terrific clout
to give two different worlds - In and Out -
to you, at will. The trick, now and again,
is knowing what to do with them - and when!

by Helen Harrington

Helen Gladys Harrington (maiden name Martin) was born on 28 February 1909 in Decatur County, Iowa, United States of America. She and her husband Marion Earl ‘Red’ Harrington (1908 - 1993) became farmers, and she also wrote poetry. Helen Gladys Harrington passed on at 90 years of age on 30 January 2000 in Lamoni, Iowa, United States of America.

A Sailor Ballad

8/29/2018

A Sailor Ballad

Oh, tie your knot with a tug and twist,
     And never a careless bend,
Look out for strands that you may have missed,
     And never leave a loose end.

In law or love will the ruling hold:
     If trouble away you’d fend,
Be careful ever, and often bold,
     But never leave a loose end.

The lag or slip of a rope will give
     A loop that you can’t defend.
You’ll hate yourself as long as you live -
     Oh, never leave a loose end!

Some other fellow as quick as thought
     Will do what you cannot mend -
Untie your luck or your true-love knot, -
     So never leave a loose end.

by Ruby Archer

Don’t You See?

8/27/2018

Don’t You See?

The day was hotter than words can tell,
     So hot the jelly-fish wouldn’t jell.
The halibut went all to butter,
     And the catfish had only force to utter
A faint sea-mew - aye, though some have doubted,
     The carp he carped and the horn-pout pouted.

The sardonic sardine had his sly heart’s wish
     When the angel fish fought with the paradise-fish.
’Twas a sight gave the bluefish the blues to see,
     But the seal concealed a wicked glee -

The day it went from bad to worse,
     Till the pickerel picked the purse-crab’s purse.

And that crab felt crabbeder yet, no doubt,
     Because the oyster wouldn’t shell out.
The sculpin would sculp, but hadn’t a model,
     And the codfish begged for something to coddle.

But to both the dolphin refused its doll,
     Till the whale was obliged to whale them all.

by Katherine Lee Bates

Captain Reece

8/26/2018

Captain Reece

Of all the ships upon the blue,
     No ship contained a better crew
Than that of worthy Captain Reece,
     Commanding of ‘The Mantelpiece.’

He was adored by all his men,
     For worthy Captain Reece, R. N.,
Did all that lay within him to
     Promote the comfort of his crew.

If ever they were dull or sad,
     Their captain danced to them like mad,
Or told, to make the time pass by,
     Droll legends of his infancy.

A feather bed had every man,
     Warm slippers and hot-water can,
Brown Windsor from the captain’s store,
     A valet, too, to every four.

Did they with thirst in summer burn?
     Lo, seltzogenes at every turn,
And on all very sultry days
     Cream ices handed round on trays.

Then currant wine and ginger-pops
     Stood handily on all the “tops”;
And also, with amusement rife,
     A “Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life.”

New volumes came across the sea
     From Mister Mundies libraree;
The Times and Saturday Review
     Beguiled the leisure of the crew.

Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R. N.,
     Was quite devoted to his men;
In point of fact, good Captain Reece
     Beatified ‘The Mantelpiece.’

One summer eve, at half-past ten,
     He said (addressing all his men):
“Come, tell me, please, what I can do
     To please and gratify my crew.”

“By any reasonable plan
     I’ll make you happy if I can;
My own convenience count as nil:
     It is my duty, and I will.”

Then up and answered William Lee
     (The kindly captain’s coxswain he,
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man),
     He cleared his throat and thus began:

“You have a daughter, Captain Reece,
     Ten female cousins and a niece,
A ma, if what I’m told is true,
     Six sisters, and an aunt or two.”

“Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me
     More friendly like we all should be,
If you united of ’em to
     Unmarried members of the crew.”

“If you’d ameliorate our life,
     Let each of us select a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
     Give me your own enchanting gal!”

Good Captain Reece, that worthy man,
     Debated on his coxswain’s plan:
“I quite agree,” he said, “O Bill;
     It is my duty, and I will.”

“My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
     Has just been promised to an Earl,
And all my other familee
     To peers of various degree.”

“But what are dukes and viscounts to
     The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I’ll fulfill;
     It is my duty, and I will.”

“As you desire it shall befall;
     I’ll settle thousands on you all,
And I shall be, despite my hoard,
     The only bachelor on board.”

The boatswain of ‘The Mantelpiece,’
     He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece:
“I beg your honor’s leave,” he said:
     “If you would wish to go and wed,”

“I have a widowed mother who
     Would be the very thing for you -
She long has loved you from afar;
     She washes for you, Captain R.”

The Captain saw the dame that day -
     Addressed her in this playful way -
“And did it want a wedding ring?
     It was a tempting ickle sing!”

“Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
     We’ll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
     It is my duty and I will!”

The sisters, cousins, aunts and niece,
     And widowed ma of Captain Reece,
Attended there as they were bid;
     It was their duty, and they did.

by William S. Gilbert (William Schwenck Gilbert (1836 - 1911))

The Table and the Chair

8/21/2018

The Table and the Chair

I

Said the Table to the Chair,
‘You can hardly be aware,
‘How I suffer from the heat,
‘And from chilblains on my feet!
‘If we took a little walk,
‘We might have a little talk!
‘Pray let us take the air!’
Said the Table to the Chair.

II

Said the Chair unto the Table,
‘Now you know we are not able!
‘How foolishly you talk,
‘When you know we cannot walk!’
Said the Table, with a sigh,
‘It can do no harm to try,
‘I’ve as many legs as you,
‘Why can’t we walk on two?’

III

So they both went slowly down,
And walked about the town
With a cheerful bumpy sound,
As they toddled round and round.
And everybody cried,
As they hastened to their side,
‘See! the Table and the Chair
Have come out to take the air!’

IV

But in going down an alley,
To a castle in a valley,
They completely lost their way,
And wandered all the day,
Till, to see them safely back,
They paid a Ducky-quack,
And a Beetle, and a Mouse,
Who took them to their house.

V

Then they whispered to each other,
‘O delightful little brother!
What a lovely walk we’ve taken!
Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!’
So the Ducky, and the leetle
Browny-Mousy and the Beetle
Dined, and danced upon their heads
Till they toddled to their beds.

by Edward Lear

Chilblain: A painful, itching swelling on the skin, typically on a hand or foot, caused by poor circulation in the skin when exposed to cold; also known as pernio.

Leetle: A very tiny and disgustingly cute and/or fascinating thing; derived from ‘little.’

Toddle: To move with short unsteady steps while learning to walk; said of a child.

Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and did whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 76 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy.

Jabberwocky

7/14/2018

Jabberwocky

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
   Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
   And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
     The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
   The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
   Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
   And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
   The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
    And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
   The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
   He went galumphing back.

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
   Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’”
   He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
   Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
   And the mome raths outgrabe.

by Lewis Carroll: “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871)

Lewis Carroll is a pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who was born on 27 January 1832 in England. He became a writer, a mathematician, a logician, an Anglican deacon, and a photographer. His is known for the books, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” (1865) and its sequel, “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871), as well as the poems, “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky,” all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson passed on at 65 years of age on 14 January 1898.

The Height of the Ridiculous

7/7/2018

The Height of the Ridiculous

I wrote some lines once on a time
     In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say
     They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,
     I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,
     A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;
     How kind it was of him
To mind a slender man like me,
     He of the mighty limb!

“These to the printer,” I exclaimed,
     And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest),
     “There’ll be the devil to pay.”

He took the paper, and I watched,
     And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
     Was all upon the grin.

He read the next; the grin grew broad,
     And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise
     I now began to hear.

The fourth; he broke into a roar;
     The fifth; his waist band split;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off,
     And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye
     I watched that wretched man,
And since, I never dare to write
     As funny as I can.

by Oliver Wendell Holmes

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior was born on 29 August 1809 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States of America. He became a physician, a novelist, an essayist, and a poet. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior passed on at 85 years of age on 7 October 1894 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America.

The Quangle Wangle's Hat

4/9/2018

The Quangle Wangle’s Hat

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.

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.

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!”

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!”

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.

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.

by Edward Lear

Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 75 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy. His online memorial can be visited by clicking on Edward Lear.

Merry Are the Bells

4/8/2018

Merry Are the Bells

Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring,
     Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,
     And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!

Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose:
     Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose:
Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free;
     With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!

Merry have we met, and merry have we been;
     Merry let us part, and merry meet again;
With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,
     With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!

by Emilie Poulsson

Anne Emilie Poulsson was born on 8 September 1853 in Cedar Grove, New Jersey, United States of America. She became a teacher for the blind at the Perkins School, a writer, a poet, and a translator of written works from Norwegian into English. Anne Emilie Poulsson passed on at 85 years of age on 18 March 1939.

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Click or tap here to visit the Learning Page.

Learning

Click or tap here to visit the Library Page.

Library

Click or tap here to visit the Life Page.

Life

Click or tap here to visit the Limericks Page.

Limericks

Click or tap here to visit the Marriage Page.

Marriage

Click or tap here to visit the Moral Conduct Page.

Moral Conduct

Click or tap here to visit the Nature Page.

Nature

Click or tap here to visit the New Year's Day Page.

New Year’s Day

Click or tap here to visit the Nonsense Page.

Nonsense

Click or tap here to visit the Numbers Page.

Numbers

Click or tap here to visit the Nursery Rhymes Page.

Nursery Rhymes

Click or tap here to visit the Parenting Page.

Parenting

Click or tap here to visit the Personal Development Page.

Personal Development

Click or tap here to visit the Physical Fitness Page.

Physical Fitness

Click or tap here to visit the Picture Jokes Page.

Picture Jokes

Click or tap here to visit the Picture Quotations Page.

Picture Quotations

Click or tap here to visit the Plants Page.

Plants

Click or tap here to visit the Printables Page.

Printables

Click or tap here to visit the Quotation Collections Page.

Quotation Collections

Click or tap here to visit the Quotations Page.

Quotations

Click or tap here to visit the Seasons Page.

Seasons

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Serious

Click or tap here to visit the Serious Poems Page.

Serious Poems

Click or tap here to visit the Serious Topics Page.

Serious Topics

Click or tap here to visit the Silly Page.

Silly

Click or tap here to visit the Silly Songs Page.

Silly Songs

Click or tap here to visit the Sleep Page.

Sleep

Click or tap here to visit the Society Page.

Society

Click or tap here to visit the Stories with Morals Page.

Stories with Morals

Click or tap here to visit the Thanksgiving Day Page.

Thanksgiving Day

Click or tap here to visit the Time Page.

Time

Click or tap here to visit the Valentine's Day Page.

Valentine’s Day

Click or tap here to visit the Weather Page.

Weather

Click or tap here to visit the Website Index Page.

Website Index

Click or tap here to visit the Website Information Page.

Website Information

Click or tap here to visit the Work Page.

Work

Click or tap here to visit the World Page.

World

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