Reasonable Interest

I want to know how Bernard Shaw
Likes beefsteak, fairly done, or raw?
I want to know what kinds of shoes
M. Maeterlinck and Howells use.

I have great curiosity
Regarding George Ades new boot tree.
Has Carolyn Wells of late employed
Hairpins of wire or celluliod?

What kind of soap does London like?
Does Robert Chambers ever hike?
Or did he ever? Or, if not,
Does he like cabbage, cheese, or what?

I want to know the size of gloves
Oppenheim wears, and if he loves
Olives, and how his clothes are made.
What does he eat? How is he paid?

All sorts of things I want to learn,
That are not of the least concern
To any one. For, Oh! and Oh!
I want to know! I WANT TO KNOW!

I want to know, and know I will,
The printing press is never still,
For me it prints such facts as these!
I am the Public, if you please!

Ellis Parker Butler

Ellis Parker Butler was an American author, humorist, and poet, best known for his short story 'Pigs Is Pigs.' Born on December 5, 1869, in Muscatine, Iowa, Butler became a prolific writer, contributing to numerous magazines and books over his career. He is remembered for his wit and humor, which marked his work. Butler passed away on September 13, 1937.

Ellis Parker Butler

The Wood Nymph

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

The Hunter

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; III: On Laziness And Its Resultant Ills

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

No Beer, No Work

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

English

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Literary Advertisement.

Wanted--Authors of all-work to job for the season,
    No matter which party, so faithful to neither;
Good hacks who, if posed for a rhyme or a reason.
    Can manage, like ******, to do without either.

If in jail, all the better for out-o'-door topics;
    Your jail is for travellers a charming retreat;
They can take a day's rule for a trip to the Tropics,
    And sail round the world at their ease in the Fleet.

For a dramatist too the most useful of schools--
    He can study high life in the King's Bench community;
Aristotle could scarce keep him more within rules,
    And of place he at least must adhere to the unity.

Any lady or gentleman, come to an age
    To have good "Reminiscences" (three-score or higher)
Will meet with e...

Thomas Moore

A Curiosity

    I knew a little boy, not very long ago,
    Who was as bright and happy as any boy you know.
    He had an only fault, and you will all agree
    That from a fault like this a boy himself might free.

    "I wonder who is there, oh, see! now, why is this?"
    And "Oh, where are they going?" and "Tell me what it is?"
    Ah! "which" and "why" and "who," and "what" and "where" and "when,"
    We often wished that never need we hear those words again.

    He seldom stopped to think; he almost always knew
    The answer to the questions that around the world he threw.
    To children seeking knowledge a quick reply we give,
    But answering what he asked was pouring water through a sieve.
    Yet you'll admit his fate was as sad as it was strange.
    Our eyes w...

Helen Leah Reed

Old Cambridge

And can it be you've found a place
Within this consecrated space,
That makes so fine a show,
For one of Rip Van Winkle's race?
And is it really so?
Who wants an old receipted bill?
Who fishes in the Frog-pond still?
Who digs last year's potato hill? -
That's what he'd like to know!

And were it any spot on earth
Save this dear home that gave him birth
Some scores of years ago,
He had not come to spoil your mirth
And chill your festive glow;
But round his baby-nest he strays,
With tearful eye the scene surveys,
His heart unchanged by changing days,
That's what he'd have you know.

Can you whose eyes not yet are dim
Live o'er the buried past with him,
And see the roses blow
When white-haired men were Joe and Jim
Untouched ...

Oliver Wendell Holmes

To A Bookseller

    My dear Sir, -
    "There lies a vale in Ida
    Lovelier
    Than all the valleys
    Of Ionian hills."
    I take it
    That this is a geographical fact.
    Anyway it is Tennyson,
    And I quote it
    In order that you may perceive
    That I have some acquaintance
    With the higher walks of Literature,
    And am therefore a man
    Of entirely different build from yourself.
    I was born a poet,
    And have stuck to my trade
    Unto this last.
    Possibly you were born a bookseller.
    I am willing to give your credit for it,
    But I doubt it all the same,
    For I often think the average bookseller
    Must have been born a draper.
    The other day I had occasion to do a little book-buying.
    It was ...

Thomas William Hodgson Crosland

He Moralizeth Upon What A Day May Bring Forth.

"To-morrow!" who'll warrant to-morrow we'll see?

Who'll care the next day or day after for dinner?

Or what the next fashion of new dress will be?

Or who Mrs. Grundy will say is the winner?

Having reached Thirtysixthly, the Author is
about to Make the "Application," and Pray
forgiveness, but concludes by remaining Incog.

"Who'll care for, to-morrow, for this bit of scandal,
With malice prepense that a cynic has written?

(That's what they will say when the poem they handle,
Who feel 'tis themselves whom the mad dog has bitten;
And wish he was treated as dogs with the rabies
Are treated, to stop his unmannerly bark;
Or packed off to bed as you do naughty babies,
To sleep, or be frightened all alone in the dark.)

Who'll care? w...

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Tempora Mutantur

Letters, letters, letters, letters!
Some that please and some that bore,
Some that threaten prison fetters
(Metaphorically, fetters
Such as bind insolvent debtors)
Invitations by the score.

One from COGSON, WILES, and RAILER,
My attorneys, off the Strand;
One from COPPERBLOCK, my tailor
My unreasonable tailor
One in FLAGG'S disgusting hand.

One from EPHRAIM and MOSES,
Wanting coin without a doubt,
I should like to pull their noses
Their uncompromising noses;
One from ALICE with the roses
Ah, I know what that's about !

Time was when I waited, waited
For the missives that she wrote,
Humble postmen execrated
Loudly, deeply execrated
When I heard I wasn't fated
To be gladdened with a note!

Time was when I'...

William Schwenck Gilbert