Envoi

Now don't go and say you'd a dim
Idea of these stories before,
For I've frankly confessed them from Grimm,
The monarch of magical lore:

And if, by repeating, I took
Your time, I will candidly vow
This moral (the last in the book)
Has never been published till now!


The Moral: The skeleton's Grimm,
But I have supplied the apparel,
So it's fifty per cent, of it Him,
And it's fifty per cent. of it Carryl.
But still (from the personal severing,
For it isn't my nature to grump,)
I acknowledge a measure of Levering
Levering-ed the whole of the lump!

Guy Wetmore Carryl

Guy Wetmore Carryl was an American humorist and poet born on March 4, 1873. He was known for his humorous poetry and prose that often provided a satirical look at contemporary society. His most notable works include collections such as "Mother Goose for Grown-ups" and "Grimm Tales Made Gay." Carryl's witty and engaging style made him a popular literary figure in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He passed away at a young age on April 1, 1904.

Guy Wetmore Carryl

How A Cat Was Annoyed And A Poet Was Booted

Guy Wetmore Carryl, Simple Poetry

How The Babes In The Wood Showed They Couldn't Be Beaten

Guy Wetmore Carryl, Simple Poetry

How Jack Made The Giants Uncommonly Sore

Guy Wetmore Carryl, Simple Poetry

How Beauty Contrived To Get Square With The Beast

Guy Wetmore Carryl, Simple Poetry

English

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How Rumplestilz Held Out In Vain For A Bonus

In Germany there lived an earl
Who had a charming niece:
And never gave the timid girl
A single moment's peace!
Whatever low and menial task
His fancy flitted through,
He did not hesitate to ask
That shrinking child to do.
(I see with truly honest shame you
Are blushing, and I do not blame you.
A tale like this the feelings softens,
And brings the tears, as does "Two Orphans.")

She had to wash the windows, and
She had to scrub the floors,
She had to lend a willing hand
To fifty other chores:
She gave the dog his exercise,
She read the earl the news,
She ironed all his evening ties,
And polished all his shoes,
She cleaned the tins that filled the dairy,
She cut the claws of the canary,
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Guy Wetmore Carryl

How A Princess Was Wooed From Habitual Sadness

In days of old the King of Saxe
Had singular opinions,
For with a weighty battle-axe
He brutalized his minions,
And, when he'd nothing to employ
His mind, he chose a village,
And with an air of savage joy
Delivered it to pillage.

But what aroused within his breast
A rage well-nigh primeval
Was, most of all, his daughter, dressed
In fashion mediæval:
The gowns that pleased this maiden's eye
Were simple as Utopia,
And for a hat she had a high
Inverted cornucopia.

In all her life she'd never smiled,
Her sadness was abysmal:
The boisterous monarch found his child
Unutterably dismal.
He therefore said the prince who made
Her laughter from its shell come,
Besides in ducats being paid,
Might wed the girl, and welcome!

Guy Wetmore Carryl

How Rudeness And Kindness Were Justly Rewarded

Once on a time, long years ago
(Just when I quite forget),
Two maidens lived beside the Po,
One blonde and one brunette.
The blonde one's character was mild,
From morning until night she smiled,
Whereas the one whose hair was brown
Did little else than pine and frown.
(I think one ought to draw the line
At girls who always frown and pine!)

The blonde one learned to play the harp,
Like all accomplished dames,
And trained her voice to take C sharp
As well as Emma Eames;
Made baskets out of scented grass,
And paper-weights of hammered brass,
And lots of other odds and ends
For gentleman and lady friends.
(I think it takes a deal of sense
To manufacture gifts for gents!)

The dark one wore an air of gloom,
P...

Guy Wetmore Carryl

How A Girl Was Too Reckless Of Grammar By Far

Matilda Maud Mackenzie frankly hadn't any chin,
Her hands were rough, her feet she turned invariably in;
Her general form was German,
By which I mean that you
Her waist could not determine
To within a foot or two:
And not only did she stammer,
But she used the kind of grammar
That is called, for sake of euphony, askew.

From what I say about her, don't imagine I desire
A prejudice against this worthy creature to inspire.
She was willing, she was active,
She was sober, she was kind,
But she never looked attractive
And she hadn't any mind!
I knew her more than slightly,
And I treated her politely
When I met her, but of course I wasn't blind!

Matilda Maud Mackenzie had a habit that was droll,
She spent her morning seated on...

Guy Wetmore Carryl

How A Beauty Was Waked And Her Suitor Was Suited

Albeit wholly penniless,
Prince Charming wasn't any less
Conceited than a Croesus or a modern millionaire:
Though often in necessity,
No one would ever guess it. He
Was candidly insolvent, and he frankly didn't care!
Of the many debts he made
Not a one was ever paid,
But no one ever pressed him to refund the borrowed gold:
While he recklessly kept spending,
People gladly kept on lending,
For the fact they knew a title
Was requital
Twenty-fold!
(He lived in sixteen sixty-three,
This smooth unblushing article,
Since when, as far as I can see,
Men haven't changed a particle!)

In Charming's principality
There was a wild locality,
Composed of sombre forest, and of steep and frowning crags,
Of pheasant and of rabbit, too;
And here...

Guy Wetmore Carryl

The Abbreviated Fox And His Sceptical Comrades

A certain fox had a Grecian nose
And a beautiful tail. His friends
Were wont to say in a jesting way
A divinity shaped his ends.
The fact is sad, but his foxship had
A fault we should all eschew:
He was so deceived that he quite believed
What he heard from friends was true.

One day he found in a sheltered spot
A trap with stalwart springs
That was cunningly planned to supply the demand
For some of those tippet things.
The fox drew nigh, and resolved to try
The way that the trap was set:
(When the trap was through with this interview
There was one less tippet to get!)

The fox returned to his doting friends
And said, with an awkward smile,
"My tail I know was comme il faut,
And served me well for a while."
When his comrades...

Guy Wetmore Carryl