ON A MAGAZINE SONNET

BY RUSSEL HILLARD LOINES

"Scorn not the sonnet," though its strength be sapped, Nor say malignant its inventor blundered;

The corpse that here in fourteen lines is wrapped
Had otherwise been covered with a hundred.

SPRATT VS. SPRATT

(With genuflections to Owen Seaman and the Ghost of Guy Wetmore Carryl)

BY LOUIS UNTERMEYER

Of all of the gruesome attempts at a twosome
The worst of the lot were the Spratts;
Their life was a series of quibbles and queries,
And quarrels and squabbles and spats.

They argued at breakfast, they argued at tea,
And they argued from midnight till quarter past three.1

The paterfamilias was rather a silly ass
With an appetite passing belief;

A garrulous glutton, he ate up the mutton,
The chicken, the chops and the beef.

His dining-room manner was almost obscene:
He threw his wife fat while he gobbled the lean!

1 A. M.

He railed at her reading, her brain and her breeding, Her goodness, her glands and her girth;

He mentioned with loathing the state of her clothing And also the State of her birth.1

But his malice exceeded all bounds of control

When he scoffed at her Art and the state of her Soul.

To show her what home meant he gave her no moment Of leisure, not even at night.

He bellowed, "I'll teach ye to read Shaw and Nietszche,"

And quoted from Harold Bell Wright.

"The place for a woman—” he'd start, very glib . . . And so on for two or three hours ad lib.2

So very malignant became his indignant

Remarks about "culture" and "cranks,"

That at last she revolted; she upped and she bolted
And died in the radical ranks.

Her will left him silent in pique up in Darien 3
When he found she had founded The New Vegetarian.*

And The Moral is this (though a bit abstruse):
What's sauce for a more or less proper goose,

When it rouses the violent feminine dander,

Is apt to be sauce for the propaganda!

1 Oklahoma.

2 also ad nauseam.

3 Connecticut.

A Journal for Devout Dieticians.

A CREW POEM

BY EDWARD AUGUSTUS BLOUNT, JR.
So happy were Columbia's eight,
As near the goal they drew,
Each struggling hero all elate,
The cock-swain almost crew.

THE HEAVY DRAGOON

BY W. S. GILBERT

If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
Take all the remarkable people in history,
Rattle them off to a popular tune!

The pluck of Lord Nelson on board of the Victory—
Genius of Bismarck devising a plan;

The humour of Fielding (which sounds contradictory)

Coolness of Paget about to trepan—

The grace of Mozart, that unparalleled musico-
Wit of Macaulay, who wrote of Queen Anne-
The pathos of Paddy, as rendered by Boucicault-
Style of the Bishop of Sodor and Man-
The dash of a D'Orsay, divested of quackery-
Narrative powers of Dickens and Thackeray-
Victor Emanuel-peak-haunting Peveril—
Thomas Aquinas, and Doctor Sacheverell—
Tupper and Tennyson-Daniel Defoe-
Anthony Trollope and Mister Guizot!-

Take of these elements all that is fusible,
Melt 'em all down in a pipkin or crucible,
Set 'em to simmer and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!

If you want a receipt for this soldierlike paragon,
Get at the wealth of the Czar (if you can)—
The family pride of a Spaniard from Arragon—
Force of Mephisto pronouncing a ban—
A smack of Lord Waterford, reckless and rollicky-
Swagger of Roderick, heading his clan-
The keen penetration of Paddington Pollaky-
Grace of an Odalisque on a divan—

The genius strategic of Cæsar or Hannibal—
Skill of Lord Wolseley in thrashing a cannibal-
Flavour of Hamlet-the Stranger, a touch of him—
Little of Manfred (but not very much of him)—
Beadle of Burlington-Richardson's show-
Mr. Micawber and Madame Tussaud!

Take of these elements all that is fusible-
Melt 'em all down in a pipkin or crucible-
Set 'em to simmer and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!

ADVICE TO WORRIERS

BY GEORGE KAUPMAN

Pray list to me a modest while;
I fain would spill an earful:

Don't worry-cultivate a smile-
Be always bright and cheerful.

When things are looking dour and black,
Then you be blithe and hearty;
Just slap me gaily on the back-
The life of every party.

Let naught your cheery nature spoil;
Be always gay and chipper.
And I'll supply the boiling oil,
If someone has a dipper.

From DUCKS

BY F. W. HARVEY

When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured

suns

He turned His mind from big things to fashion little

ones,

Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, and then He made the comical ones in case the minds of men Should stiffen and become

Dull, humourless and glum:

And so forgetful of their Maker be

As to take even themselves-quite seriously.
Caterpillars and cats are lively and excellent puns:
All God's jokes are good-even the practical ones!