Now, this is so—it is better to
take a little away at a
time and carry your staff with you, than
to
take all at once and leave
it behind.
[Illustration: Venturesome Boldness. This illustrated poem depicts the tailor with a wooden sword standing before the knight on horseback.]
VENTURESOME BOLDNESS
A tailor came a-walking by,
The fire of courage in his eye.
“Where are you going Sir?” Said I.
“I slew a mouse
In our house
Where other tailors live,” said he,
“And not a Jack
Among the pack
Would dare to do the like; pardie!
Therefore, I’m going out to try
If there be greater men that I;
Or in the land
As bold a hand
At wielding brand as I, you see!”
The tailor came a-limping by
With woful face and clothes awry
And all his courage gone to pie.
“I met a knight
In armor bright
And bade him stand and draw,” said he;
“He straightaway did
As he was bid,
And treated me outrageously.
So I shall get me home again,
And probably shall there remain.
A little man.
Sir, always can
Be great with folk of less degree!”
H. Pyle
[Illustration: Superficial Culture. This is a full page illustrated poem depicting: the dame in a chair with the pig sitting on the floor in front of her, the pig dancing in full dress, the pig in full dress bowing to a person, and the pig in full dress on bent knee before the lady he loved.]
SUPERFICIAL CULTURE
I’ll tell of a certain old dame;
The
same
Had a beautiful piggy, whose name
Was
James;
and whose beauty and worth,
From the day of his birth,
Were matters of popular fame,
And
his claim
To gentility no one could blame.
So, seeing his promise, she thought
She
ought
To have him sufficiently taught
The
art
Of deportment, to go
Into company; so
A master of dancing she brought,
Who
was fraught
With a style which the piggiwig caught.
So his company manners were rare.
His
care
Of social observances there
Would
bear
The closest inspection,
And not a reflection
Could rest on his actions, howe’er
You
might care
To examine ’em down to a hair.
Now, things went beau-ti-ful-ly,
Till
he
Fell in love with a dame of degree;
Pardie!
When he tried for to speak,
But could only say, “O w-e-e-k!”
For, whatever his polish might be,
Why,
dear me!
He was pig at the bottom, you see.
H. Pyle.
[Illustration]