Mother Goose for Grown-ups — Story, Setting & Ideas

Never was African leopardess Crosser than Little Bow Peep: Quite apathetic, impassible People described her as: "That Wayward, contentious, irascible, Testy, cantankerous brat!"

Yet, as she dozed in a grotto-like Sort of a kind of a nook, She was so charmingly Watteau-like, What with her sheep and her crook; "She is a dryad or nymph," any Casual passer would think. Poets pronounced her a symphony, All in the palest of pink.

Thus it was not enigmatical, That the young shepherd who first Found her asleep, in ecstatical Sighs of felicity burst: Such was his sudden beatitude That, as he gazed at her so, Daphnis gave vent to this platitude: "My! Ain't she elegant though!"

Roused from some dream of Arcadia, Little Bow Peep with a start Answered him: "I ain't afraid o' yer! P'raps you imagine you're smart!" Daphnis protested impulsively, Blushing as red as a rose; All was in vain. She convulsively Punched the young man in the nose!

All of it's true, every word of it! I was not present to peep, But if you ask how I heard of it, Please to remember the sheep. There is no need of excuse. You will See how such scandals occur: If you recall Mother Goose, you will Know what tail-bearers they were!

MORAL: This pair irreclaimable Might have made Seraphim weep, But who can pick the most blamable? _Both saw a little beau peep!_

THE COMMENDABLE CASTIGATION

She was one of those creatures Whose features Are hard beyond any reclaim; And she loved in a hovel To grovel, And she hadn't a cent to her name. She owned neither gallants Nor talents; She borrowed extensively, too, From all of her dozens Of cousins, And never refunded a _sou_: Yet all they said in abuse of her Was: "She is prouder than Lucifer!" (That, I must say, without meaning to blame, Is always the way with that kind of a dame!)

There never was jolli- Er colley Than Old Mother Hubbard had found, Though cheaply she bought him, She'd taught him To follow her meekly around: But though she would lick him And kick him, It never had any effect; He always was howling And growling, But goodness! What could you expect? Colleys were never to flourish meant 'Less they had plenty of nourishment, All that he had were the feathers she'd pluck Off an occasional chicken or duck.

The colley was barred in The garden, He howled and he wailed and he whined. The neighbors indignant, Malignant Petitions unanimous signed. "The nuisance grows nightly," Politely They wrote. "It's an odious hound, And either you'll fill him, Or kill him, Or else he must go to the pound. For if this howling infernally Is to continue nocturnally-- Pardon us, ma'am, if we seem to be curt-- Somebody's apt to get horribly hurt!"

Mother Hubbard cried loudly And proudly: "Lands sakes! but you give yourselves airs! I'll take the law to you And sue you." The neighbors responded: "Who cares? We none of us care if The sheriff Lock every man jack of us up; We won't be repining At fining So long as we're rid of the pup!" They then proceeded to mount a sign, Bearing this ominous countersign: "FREEMEN! THE MOMENT HAS COME TO PROTEST AND OLD MOTHER HUBBARD DELENDUM EST!"

They marched to her gateway, And straightway They trampled all over her lawn; Most rudely they harried And carried Her round on a rail until dawn. They marred her, and jarred her, And tarred her And feathered her, just as they should, Of speech they bereft her, And left her With: "_Now_ do you think you'll be good!"

THE MORAL'S a charmingly pleasing one. While we would deprecate teasing one, Still, when a dame has politeness rebuffed, She certainly ought to be collared and cuffed.

THE DISCOURAGING DISCOVERY

A knack almost incredible for dealing with an edible Jack Horner's elder sister was acknowledged to display; She labored hard and zealously, but always guarded jealously The secrets of the dishes she invented every day. She'd take some indigestible, unpopular comestible, And to its better nature would so tenderly appeal That Jack invoked a benison upon a haunch of venison, When really she was serving him a little leg of veal!

Jack said she was a miracle. The word was not satirical, For daily climbing upward, she excelled herself at last: The acme of facility, the zenith of ability Was what she gave her brother for his Christmas Day repast. He dined that evening eagerly and anything but meagerly, And when he'd had his salad and his quart of Extra Dry, With sisterly benignity, and just a touch of dignity, She placed upon the table an unutterable pie!