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Read Ebook: The Laughing Willow Verses and Pictures by Herford Oliver

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Ebook has 416 lines and 23976 words, and 9 pages

MARK TWAIN 121

PRINCE POMPOM 124

THE SERIAL 126

THE CLOUD 130

THE LAUGHING WILLOW

THE LAUGHING WILLOW

EPITAPHS

Willy Nilly

Here lies Willy's mortal clay In its Mother Earth's caresses. Willy's soul has flown away-- Where it is you have two guesses.

Here lies Bill

Here lies Bill, the son of Fred. He lied alive; he now lies dead.

Tears, Idle Tears

Oh, stranger, dry the starting tear! Kaiser Bill is buried here.

Pax

'Neath this stone lies Kaiser Bill. He sought for peace--he seeks it still.

Requiescat

Here Wilhelm sleeps. For Mercy's sake, Tread softly, friend, lest he should wake!

Ashes to Ashes

Swallow him, O Earth, for he, Did his best to swallow thee.

THE TRUTH ABOUT RUSSIA

This is a Russian Wedding Feast; Counting the Groom, there are at least A hundred sitting down to dine, Or let us call it ninety-nine: For more than that there is no room, And no one ever counts the Groom!

The Mujik wears a costume weird Consisting of a fuzzy beard, A sheep-skin blouse And breeks astonishingly wide, Made from the fur of North sea Whales, And Yak-hide boots with big brass nails.

The Cossack is so much at home Upon his horse, that though he roam From Vladivostok to Odessa, His wife has only to address a Letter to Ivan "care his Horse" To catch her Spouse, unless of course, As sometimes happens, Ivan may Have swapped addresses on the way.

A Sable sitting on a flight Of Russian Steppes, before a bright New Samovar, calm as can be, Brewing a cup of Russian Tea.

THE AIR RAID

Above the pandemonium Of Siren shrill and warning Drum And Aircraft Gun is heard the roar Of little Freddy, aetat four; The cellar dark and dank and dim No fascination has for him, The little darling wants to be Upstairs upon the roof and see The "fireworks!" "If you ask me--" Aunt Kate was overheard to say, "I'd let the dear child have his way!"

Who is that cowardly Jack Horner Crouching there in the darkest corner, Behind the furnace? Look again, That is no cringing coward, when Your eyes become accustomed to The darkness of the cellar, you Will see it is no other than Philander Jones and Marian; Make no mistake, Philander's dread Is not a Zeppelin overhead, But that rude moment when he'll hear The beastly Siren sound "All's clear!"

"Where is Molly?" Like a Shell, Short and sharp, the question fell, Scattering every one pell mell From the cellar's safe retreat Through the house on panic feet, Basement, Attic--everywhere They sought, one hope remained and there On the Drying-roof they found her, Shrapnel flashing all around her, Calm and cool 'mid war's alarms, Hugging something in her arms. "I's all right--don't cwy!" said Molly, "I tame back to det my dolly!"

VALE DIABOLE

At a recent church conference it was decided to drop the Devil from the ritual.

Well! Well! so you've been fired, You've lost your job at last. It's high time you retired, Old Boy, you're failing fast.

You're getting old, you know it, You are not in the race. Admit you cannot go it, The killing, modern pace.

Your methods are too dull for The modern school of Hate, Your lake of burning sulphur Is sadly out of date.

The Hohenzollern's Kultur Mocks at your fiery pits, His double-headed vulture Has put yours on the fritz.

Beside the fierce, blaspheming, Mail-fisted Kaiser Bill, You are a seraph beaming, An angel of good-will.

But tho' we can't deny, sir, You're hopelessly outclassed, You've one thing on the Kaiser, Which is, tho' first and last

A failure as a devil, Yet boast of this you can: You were always on the level-- And--you are a gentleman!

THE WRONG FLOOR

A certain Emperor Once pounded on the door Of heaven with fist of mail.

Cried Peter from within, Awakened by the row, "Stop that infernal din! Who are you, anyhow?"

"Don't bandy words with me!" Thundered the visitor. "All doors to me are free. I am the Emperor."

"If you're an Emperor," Said Peter, "then I fear You've come to the wrong floor. We take no Emperors here.

"Our waiting list is filled With martyrs brave and true Whose blood an Emperor spilled. There is no room for you."

Cowed by Saint Peter's look, The Emperor, with a frown, Cried, "Well, I'm damned!" and took The elevator--down.

MARCHING TO BERLIN

Hurray! Hurray! We'll wave the Stripes and Stars! Away, away with Emperors and Czars! And when we get the Kaiser we'll put him behind the bars, As we go marching to Berlin! Berlin! Berlin! etc.

Hurray! Hurray! We'll show the Prussian swine That Freedom is the only Right Divine, And when we catch old Kaiser Bill we'll pitch him in the Rhine, As we go marching to Berlin! Berlin! Berlin! etc.

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