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RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
Cornelia used to sing with him, and Jenkins used to play;He praised unblushingly her notes, for he was false as they;So when the winds of April turned the budding roses brown,Cornelia told her husband:—"Tom, you mustn't send him down."
They haled him from his regiment, which didn't much regret him;They found for him an office-stool, and on that stool they set himTo play with maps and catalogues three idle hours a day,And draw his plump retaining-fee—which means his double pay.
Now, ever after dinner, when the coffee-cups are brought,Ahasuerus waileth o'er the grand pianoforte;And, thanks to fair Cornelia, his fame hath waxen great,And Ahasuerus Jenkins is a Power in the State!
Study of an Elevation, in Indian Ink
This ditty is a string of lies.
But—how the deuce did Gubbins rise?
POTIPHAR GUBBINS, C.E.,Stands at the top of the tree;And I muse in my bed on the reasons that ledTo the hoisting of Potiphar G.
Potiphar Gubbins, C.E.,Is seven years junior to Me;Each bridge that he makes either buckles or breaks,And his work is as rough as he.
