Grimm Tales Made Gay Part 5

And her suitors would stop To look into the shop, And stand there the rest of the day.

She filled them with mute, but with deep despair, For she never glanced up, with a smile, to where They stood about, crushing Each other, and blushing: She simply kept brushing Her beautiful hair.

But a prince who was pa.s.sing, Engaged in ama.s.sing Some facts on American life, Was suddenly struck By the fact that his luck Might give him that girl for a wife!

His rashness he didn't attempt to excuse, He entered the shop and he stated his views.

Remarking, "My jewel, I'm confident you will Not wish to be cruel Enough to refuse.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Most winsome of creatures,"

He told her, "your features Have led me to candidly say That no other beside Would I have for a bride: We'll be married a week from to-day!

I belong to a long and a t.i.tled line, And the least of your wishes I won't decline; Next month I will usher My wife into Russia:-- Sweet comber and brusher, Consider you're mine!"

She looked at him squarely, Considered him fairly, Her glance was as keen as a knife, Then she turned up her nose, And, with icy repose, She answered: "Well, not on your life!

You're not on the paper the only blot!

Do you think I come twelve in a parcel--what?

_Me_ pose as your dearie?

Oh, go and chase Peary!

You're making me weary.

Now git!"

(He got!)

[Ill.u.s.tration: _This shows how, with never a shadow of doubt, When you go in for love you are apt to come out._]

The crowd that had waited Outside was elated So much by the prince's mischance, That they greeted with jeers And ironical cheers, The end of his little romance.

They said: "Did it hurt when the ground you hit?"

They searched for some mark where the prince had lit, And as he looked colder, They only grew bolder, And tapped on his shoulder With: "Tag! You're It!"

The lengthy discussion That sensitive Russian Compiled on the U. S. A.

Was read by the maid, As she carelessly played With her beautiful hair one day.

"The talk you hear in that primitive land,"

He wrote, "n.o.body can understand."

"Somebody who guffed him,"

She said, "has stuffed him, And easily bluffed him To beat the band!"

_The Moral_: The people across the brine Are exceedingly strong on Auld Lang Syne, But they're lost in the push when they strike a gang That is strong on American new line slang!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

How Thomas a Maid from a Dragon Released

Though Philip the Second Of France was reckoned No coward, his breath came short When they told him a dragon As big as a wagon Was waiting below in the court!

A dragon so long, and so wide, and so fat, That he couldn't get in at the door to chat: The king couldn't leave him Outside and grieve him, He had to receive him Upon the mat,

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The dragon bowed nicely, And very concisely He stated the reason he'd called: He made the disclosure With frigid composure.

King Philip was simply appalled!

He demanded for eating, a fortnight apart, The monarch's ten daughters, all dear to his heart.

"And now you'll produce," he Concluded, "the juicy And succulent Lucie By way of start!"

King Philip was pliant, And far from defiant --"And servile," no doubt you retort!-- But if _you_ struck a snag on A bottle-green dragon, Who filled up two-thirds of your court, And curled up his tail on your new tin roof, And made your piazza groan under his hoof, Would you threaten and thunder, Or just knuckle under Completely, I wonder, If put to proof?

[Ill.u.s.tration]

By way of a truce, he Brought out little Lucie And watched her conducted away, But all of the others Were out with their brothers!

Thus gaining a little delay, He promised through heralds sent west and east, His crown, and his kingdom, and last, not least, His daughter so sightly To any one knightly Who'd come and politely Wipe out that beast!

For love of the charmer, Arrayed in his armor, Each suitor for glory who yearned, Would gallantly hasten, The dragon to chasten, But none of them ever returned!

When the dragon had eaten some sixteen score He hung up this sign on his cavern door, Whereat he lay p.r.o.nely In majesty lonely:

+------------------------------+ |_There's Standing Room Only | | For Three Knights More!_| +------------------------------+

A slim adolescent, His beard only crescent, Rode up at this stage of the game To where the old sinner Lay gorged with his dinner, And breathing out torrents of flame.

He gathered a tip from the flaunting sign, And took his position the fourth in line, Until, as foreboded, By food incommoded, The dragon exploded At half-past nine.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _This shows how a servant may laugh at the Fates, Since everything comes to the fellow who waits._]

The king was delighted At first when he sighted The victor, but then in dismay Regretted his promise.

The stripling was Thomas, His Majesty's _valet-de-pied_!

He asked him at once: "Will you compromise?"

But Thomas looked straight in his master's eyes, And answered severely: "I see your game clearly, And scorn it sincerely.

Hand out the prize!"

Not long did he linger Before on the finger Of Lucie he fitted a ring: A month or two later They made him dictator, In place of the elderly king: He was lauded by pulpit, and boomed by press, And no one had ever a chance to guess, Beholding this hero Who ruled like a Nero, His valor was zero, Or something less.

_The Moral:_ And still from Nice to Calais Discretion's the better part of-- --_valets!_

_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 t.i.tle 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 princ.i.p.ality There was a wild locality, Composed of sombre forest, and of steep and frowning crags, Of pheasant and of rabbit, too; And here it was his habit to Go hunting with his courtiers in the keen pursuit of stags.

But the charger that he rode So mercurially strode That the prince on one occasion left the others in the lurch, And the falling darkness found him, With no va.s.sals left around him, Near a building like an abbey, Or a shabby Ruined church.

His Highness said: "I'll ring the bell And stay till morning in it!" (He Took Hobson's choice, for no hotel There was in the vicinity.)

His ringing was so vehement That any one could see he meant To suffer no refusal, but, in spite of all the din, There was no answer audible, And so, with courage laudable, His Royal Highness turned the k.n.o.b, and stoutly entered in.