Pepper & Salt; or, Seasoning for Young Folk. Говард ПайлЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Now once when the sky was pouring rain,

      The Magpie chanced to come by again —

      And there stood the post in the wet.

      "Helloa." said the Magpie. "What you here

      Pray tell me I beg is there sheltering near —

      A terrible day for this time of the year.

      T'would make a Saint Anthony fret."

      "I beg your pardon – I didn't quite hear."

      (Then louder) "I say is there sheltering near"

      But the post was as dumb as Death.

      "What can't you answer a question pray

      You will not – No – Then I'll say good-day."

      And flirting his tail he walked away.

      "You'r a fool." (this under his breath.)

      The moral that this story traces

      Is – Circumstances alter cases.

      I saw an old woman go up a steep hill,

      And she chuckled and laughed, as she went, with a will.

      And yet, as she went,

      Her body was bent,

      With a load as heavy as sins in Lent.

      "Oh! why do you chuckle, old woman;" says I,

      "As you climb up the hill-side so steep and so high?"

      "Because, don't you see,

      I'll presently be,

      At the top of the hill. He! he!" says she.

      I saw the old woman go downward again;

      And she easily travelled, with never a pain;

      Yet she loudly cried,

      And gustily sighed,

      And groaned, though the road was level and wide.

      "Oh! why, my old woman," says I, "do you weep,

      When you laughed, as you climbed up the hill-side so steep?"

      "High-ho! I am vexed,

      Because I expects,"

      Says she, "I shall ache in climbing the next."

      Twelve geese

      In a row

      (So these

      Always go).

      Down-hill

      They meander,

      Tail to bill;

      First the gander.

      So they stalked,

      Bold as brass

      As they walked

      To the grass.

      Suddenly

      Stopped the throng;

      Plain to see

      Something's wrong

      Yes; there is

      Something white!

      No quiz;

      Clear to sight.

      ('Twill amuse

      When you're told

      'Twas a news-

      Paper old.)

      Gander spoke.

      Braver bird

      Never broke

      Egg, I've heard:

      "Stand here

      Steadily,

      Never fear,

      Wait for me."

      Forth he went,

      Cautious, slow,

      Body bent,

      Head low.

      All the rest

      Stood fast,

      Waiting for

      What passed.

      Wind came

      With a caper,

      Caught same

      Daily paper.

      Up it sailed

      In the air;

      Courage failed

      Then and there.

      Scared well

      Out of wits;

      Nearly fell

      Into fits.

      Off they sped,

      Helter-skelter,

      'Till they'd fled

      Under shelter.

      Poor geese!

      Never mind;

      Other geese

      One can find,

      Cut the same

      Foolish caper

      At empty wind

      In a paper.

      A merry young shoemaker,

      And a tailor, and a baker,

      Went to seek their fortunes, for they had been told,

      Where a rainbow touched the ground,

      (If it only could be found,)

      Was a purse that should be always full of gold.

      So they traveled day by day,

      In a jolly, jocund way

      Till the shoemaker a pretty lass espied;

      When quoth he, "It seems to me,

      There can never, never be,

      Better luck than this in all the world beside."

      So the others said good-bye,

      And went on, till by-and-by

      They espied a shady inn beside the way;

      Where the Hostess fair, – a widow —

      In a lone seclusion hid; "Oh,

      Here is luck!" the tailor said, "and here I'll stay."

      So the baker jogged along,

      All alone, with ne'er a song,

      Or a jest; and nothing tempted him to stay.

      But he went from bad to worse,

      For he never found the purse,

      And for all I know he is wandering to this day.

      It is better, on the whole,

      For an ordinary soul,

      (So I gather from this song I've tried to sing,)

      For to take the luck that may

      Chance to fall within his way,

      Than to toil