Lilliput Levee
WHERE does Pinafore Palace stand?
Right in the middle of Lilliput-land!
There the Queen eats bread-and-honey,
There the King counts up his money!
Oh, the Glorious Revolution!
Oh, the Provisional Constitution!
Now that the children, clever bold folks,
Have turned the tables upon the Old Folks!
Easily the thing was done,
For the children were more than two to one;
Brave as lions, quick as foxes,
With hoards of wealth in their money-boxes!
They seized the keys, they patrolled the street,
They drove the policeman off his beat,
They built barricades, they stationed sentries—
You must give the word, when you come to the entries!
They dressed themselves, in the Riflemen’s clothes,
They had pea-shooters, they had arrows and bows,
So as to put resistance down—
Order regions in Lilliput-town!
They made the baker bake hot rolls,
They made the wharfinger send in coals,
They made the butcher kill the calf,
They cut the telegraph-wires in half.
They went to the chemists, and with their feet
They kicked the physic all down the street;
They went to the schoolroom and tore the books,
They munched the puffs at the pastrycook’s.
They sucked the jam, they lost the spoons,
They sent up several fire-balloons,
They let off crackers, they burnt a guy,
They piled a bonfire ever so high.
They offered a prize for the laziest boy,
And one for the most Magnificent toy;
They split or burnt the canes offhand,
They made new laws in Lilliput-land.
Never do to-day what you can
Put off till to-morrow, one of them ran;
Late to bed and late to rise
Was another law which they did devise.
They passed a law to have always plenty
Of beautiful things: we shall mention twenty:
A magic lantern for all to see,
Rabbits to keep, and a Christmas-tree,
A boat, a house that went on wheels,
An organ to grind, and sherry at meals,
Drums and wheelbarrows, Roman candles,
Whips with whistles let into the handles,
A real live giant, a roc to fly,
A goat to tease, a copper to sky,
A garret of apples, a box of paints,
A saw and a hammer, and no complaints.
Nail up the door, slide down the stairs,
Saw off the legs of the parlour chairs—
That was the way in Lilliput-land,
The children having the upper hand.
They made the Old Folks come to school,
And in pinafores,—that was the rule,—
Saying, Eener-deener-diner-duss,
Kattler-wheeler-whiler-wuss;
They made them learn all sorts of things
That nobody liked. They had catechisings;
They kept them in, they sent them down
In class, in school, in Lilliput-town.
O but they gave them tit-for-tat!
Thick bread-and-butter, and all that;
Stick-jaw pudding that tires your chin,
With the marmalade spread ever so thin!
They governed the clock in Lilliput-land,
They altered the hour or the minute-hand,
They made the day fast, they made the day slow,
Just as they wished the time to go.
They never waited for king or for cat;
They never wiped their shoes on the mat;
Their joy was great; their joy was greater;
They rode in the baby’s perambulator!
There was a Levee in Lilliput-town,
At Pinafore Palace. Smith and Brown,
Jones and Robinson had to attend—
All to whom they cards did send.
Every one rode in a cab to the door;
Every one came in a pinafore;
Lady and gentleman, rat-tat-tat,
Loud knock, proud knock, opera hat!
The place was covered with silver and gold,
The place was as full as it ever could hold;
The ladies kissed her Majesty’s hand,
Such was the custom in Lilliput-land.
His Majesty knighted eight or ten,
Perhaps a score, of the gentlemen,
Some of them short and some of them tall—
Arise, Sir What’s-a-name What-do-you-call!
Nuts and nutmeg (that’s in the negus);
The bill of fare would perhaps fatigue us;
Forty-five fiddlers to play the fiddle;
Right foot, left foot, down the middle.
Conjuring tricks with the poker and tongs,
Riddles and forfeits, singing of songs;
One fat man, too fat by far,
Tried “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”
His voice was gruff, his pinafore tight,
His wife said, “Mind, dear, sing it right,”
But he forgot, and said Fa-la-la!
The Queen of Lilliput’s own papa!
She frowned, and ordered him up to bed:
He said he was sorry; she shook her head;
His clean shirt-front with his tears was stained—
But discipline had to be maintained.
The Constitution! The Law! The Crown!
Order reigns in Lilliput-town!
The Queen is Jill, and the King is John;
I trust the Government will get on.
I noticed, being a man of rhymes,
An advertisement in the Lilliput Times:—
“Pinafore Palace. This is to state
That the Court is in want of a Laureate.
“Nothing menial required.
Poets, willing to be hired,
May send in Specimens at once,
Care of the Chamberlain Doubledunce.”
Said I to myself Here’s a chance for me
The Lilliput Laureate for to be!
And these are the Specimens I sent in
To Pinafore Palace. Shall I win?
Public Notice.—This is to state
That these are the specimens left at the gate
Of Pinafore Palace, exact to date,
In the hands of the porter, Curlypate,
Who sits in his plush on a chair of state,
By the gentleman who is a candidate
For the office of Lilliput Laureate.
I — The Picture
THIS is her picture—Dolladine—
The beautifullest doll that ever was seen!
Oh, what nosegays! Oh, what sashes!
Oh, what beautiful eyes and lashes!
Oh, what a precious perfect pet!
On each instep a pink rosette;
Little blue shoes for her little blue tots;
Elegant ribbons in bows and knots.
Her hair is powdered; her arms are straight,
Only feel—she is quite a weight!
Her legs are limp, though;—stand up, miss!—
What a beautiful buttoned-up mouth to kiss!
II — The Love Story
This is the doll with respect to whom
A story is told that ends in gloom;
For there was a sensitive little sir
Went out of his mind for love of her!
They pulled a wire, she moved her eye;
They squeezed the bellows, they made her cry;
But the boy could never be persuaded
That these were really things which they did.
“My Dolladine,” he said, “has life;
I love her, and she shall be my wife;
Dainty delicate Dolladine,
The prettiest girl that ever was seen!”
To give his passion a chance to cool,
They sent the lover to boarding-school.
But absence only made it worse—
He never learnt anything, prose or verse!
He drew her likeness on his slate;
His Grammar was in a dreadful state,
With Dolladine all over the edges,
And true-love knots, and vows, and pledges.
What was the consequence?—Doctor Whack
Begged of his parents to take him back.
When his condition, poor boy, was seen,
Too late, they sent for Dolladine.
And now he will never part with her:
He calls her lily, and rose, and myrrh,
Dolly-o’-diamonds, precious lamb,
Humming-bird, honey-pot, jewel, jam,
Darling, delicate-dear-delight,
Angel-o’-red, angel-o’-white,
Queen of beauty, and suchlike names;
In fact all manner of darts and flames!
Of course, while he keeps up this wooing
His education goes to ruin:
What are his prospects in future life,
With only a doll for his lawful wife?
It is feared his parents’ hearts will break!
And there’s one remark I wish to make:
I may be wrong, but it seems a pity
For a movable doll to be made too pretty.
An old-fashioned doll, that is not like nature,
Can never pass for a human creature;
It is in a doll that moves her eyes
That the danger of these misfortunes lies!
The lover’s name must be suppressed
For obvious reasons. He lives out west,
And if I call him Pygmalion Pout,
I don’t believe you will find him out!
III — Dressing Her
This is the way we dress the Doll:—
You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,
But this is the way we dress the Doll.
Chorus: Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.
First, you observe her little chemise,
As white as milk, with ruches of silk;
And the little drawers that cover her knees,
As she sits or stands, with golden bands,
And lace in beautiful filagrees.
Chorus: Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple or mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.
Now these are the bodies: she has two,
One of pink, with ruches of blue,
And sweet white lace; be careful, do!
And one of green, with buttons of sheen,
Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,
With lace on the border in lovely order,
The most expensive we can afford her!
Chorus: Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple or mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.
Then, with black at the border, jacket;
And this—and this—she will not lack it;
Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,
And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,
With a proper bodice, in the proper place
(Stays that lace have had their days
And made their martyrs); likewise garters,
All entire. But our desire
Is to show you her night attire,
At least a part of it. Pray admire
This sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!
It’s not the one that’s made for her wedding;
That is special, a new design,
Made with a charm and a countersign,
Three times three and nine times nine:
These are only her usual clothes:
Look, there’s a wardrobe! gracious knows
It’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!
So you see the way we dress the Doll:
You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you gave her a crook with a pastoral hook,
With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,
And all that, out of the poetry-book.
Chorus: Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll;
If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?
THE boys and girls were exceeding gay,
With billycock bonnets and curds and whey,
And I thought that I was in Arcady,
For the fringe of the forest was fair to see.
But the very first hayrick that I came to
Did turn to a Doll’s House, fair and true;
I saw with my eyes where the same did sit,
And there was a rainbow over it.
The people inside were setting the platters,
The chairs and tables, and suchlike matters,
And making the beds and getting the tea:
But through a bow-window I saw the sea.
Up came a damsel: “Sir,” she said,
“Will you walk with me by my garden bed?
Will you sit in my parlour by-and-by?”
“I will sit in your parlour, my dear,” said I.
“Will you hear my starling gossip?” said she,
And now I felt sure it was Arcady;
But a starling never could do the rhyming
That very soon in my ears was chiming:—
“Jigglum-jogglum, Lilliputlandum,
Twopenny tiptop, sugaricandum,
Snip-snap snorum, hot-cross buns,
Conjugatorum, double-dunce.
“Fannyfold funnyface, fairy-tale,
Cat in a cockle-boat, wigglum-whale,
Dickory-dolphin, humpty-hoo,
Floppety-fluteykin, tootle-tum-too.”
Said I, “There may be a clown outside,
And a clown I never could yet abide,—
A picker and stealer, a clumsy joker,
Who stirs up his friends with a burning poker.
“But perhaps,” said I, “I mistake the plan;
It may be the Punch-and-Judy man,
Or the other, that keeps the galante show
And the marionettes, for what I know.”
Then I opened the window through thick and thin,
And in with a bounce came a Harlequin,
And very distinctly I heard a band
Strike up the dances of Lilliput Land.
To wonder at this I did incline,
“And where,” said I, “is the Columbine—
Tip-toe twist-about, shimmer and shine,
Where is the beautiful Columbine?”
Then out from the curtains, all shimmer and shine,
With a rose-red sash came Columbine,
And Harlequin took her by the hand,
And they stepped it out in Lilliput Land;
Twirl about, whirl about, shimmer and shine,
O a rose-red sash had Columbine!
Then one of the folks who had set the tea
In Doll’s House fashion, did climb my knee,
And he said, “Would you like, sir, to take a trip
With me? Have you seen my little ship?”
The ship, as he called it, was certainly small,
For the dot of a sailor could carry it all:
So both got in, and away went we,
Coasting the sea-board of Arcady.
Then I told a story, and he told one,
But they both got mixed before they were done;
And so did we, as the day grew dim,
And the child was myself, and myself was him.
But now it was getting time to land,
So I stepped into Fleet Street, and went up the Strand,
For I thought I should like to study the trade
They drive in toys at the Lowther Arcade.
And whom should I see, at a Doll’s House door,
But the very same damsel I met before!
“I thought I should see you again,” says she;
“And a few of my friends will be here to tea.”
Then the Punch-and-Judy man came in,
And Columbine and the Harlequin,
The man that patters in front of the show,
And the children—and how their tongues did go!
But what makes the place so sweet? thought I,
As scents of the heather and furze went by,
And with them a whiff of the rolling sea;—
And then I remembered Arcady,
As the party were tittering over the tea.
I WISH I lived in a caravan,
With a horse to drive, like a pedlar-man!
Where he comes from nobody knows,
Or where he goes to, but on he goes!
His caravan has windows two,
And a chimney of tin, that the smoke comes through;
He has a wife, with a baby brown,
And they go riding from town to town.
Chairs to mend, and delf to sell!
He clashes the basins like a bell;
Tea-trays, baskets ranged in order,
Plates, with alphabets round the border!
The roads are brown, and the sea is green,
But his house is like a bathing-machine;
The world is round, and he can ride,
Rumble and slash, to the other side!
With the pedlar-man I should like to roam,
And write a book when I came home;
All the people would read my book,
Just like the Travels of Captain Cook!
THERE once was a wood, and a very thick wood,
So thick that to walk was as much as you could;
But a sunbeam got in, and the trees understood.
I went to this wood, at the end of the snows,
And as I was walking I saw a primrose;
Only one! Shall I show you the place where it grows?
There once was a house, and a very dark house,
As dark, I believe, as the hole of a mouse,
Or a tree in my wood, at the thick of the boughs.
I went to this house, and I searched it aright,
I opened the chambers, and I found a light;
Only one! Shall I show you this little lamp bright?
There once was a cave, and this very dark cave
One day took a gift from an incoming wave;
And I made up my mind to know what the sea gave.
I took a lit torch, I walked round the ness
When the water was lowest; and in a recess
In my cave was a jewel. Will nobody guess?
O there was a baby, he sat on my knee,
With a pearl in his mouth that was precious to me,
His little dark mouth like my cave of the sea!
I said to my heart, “And my jewel is bright!
He blooms like a primrose! He shines like a light!”
Put your hand in his mouth! Do you feel? He can bite!
TELL me, Praise, and tell me, Love,
What you both are thinking of?
“Oh, we think,” said Love, said Praise,
“Now of children and their ways.”
Give me of your cup to drink,
Praise, and tell me all you think.
“Oh, I think of crowns of gold
For the clever and the bold.”
Then I turned to Love, and said,—
Love was glowing heavenly-red,—
Give me of your cup to drink,
Love, and tell me all you think.
Let me taste your bitter-sweet;
Who are those that kiss your feet?
Love looked up—I read her eyes—
They were stars and they were skies.
Clinging to her garment’s hem,
Smiling as I looked at them,
There were children scarred and halt,
Children weeping for a fault;
Those who scarcely dared to raise
Doubtful eyes to smiling Praise.
Love looked round, and Praise and Pride
Brought their glad ones to her side.
“Yea, these too,” she said or sang,
And the world with music rang.
I
THERE was a little fellow
Who lived across the sea,
His hair was brown and yellow
As any honey-bee.
Sometimes he was the smartest
Of warriors in the van;
He was a Bonapartist,
And a Republican.
A fort of cards he builded,
Though now and then they slid;
With ammunition filled it,
Or made believe he did;
And when the fort was wrought up,
This little man amain
His big artillery brought up,
And blew it down again!
II
This little Bonapartist,
Or, say, Republican,
Would sometimes play the artist,—
The busy little man!
Sometimes he was untidy,
Though often he was smart;
He thought that he was mighty
In many kinds of Art.
He sat like any fixture,
The drawing-board before;
And, oh, to see the mixture
Of colours on the floor!
Such was this little fellow,
Who lived across the sea,
Whose hair was brown and yellow,
Just like a honey-bee.
III
Seven-and-seventy mothers,
This side of the sea,
Said, “We know some others
Quite as nice as he!”
Seven-and-seventy brothers
Said, “And so do we!”
Seven-and-seventy sisters,
Hearing this acclaim,
Said to those young misters,
“We think just the same.”
THEY said my brother’s ship went down,
Down into the sea,
Because a storm came on to drown
The biggest ships that be;
But I saw the ship, when he went away;
I saw it pass, and pass;
The tide was low, I went out to play,
The sea was all like glass;
The ship sailed straight into the sun,
Half of a ball of gold—
Onward it went till it touched the sun—
I saw the ship take hold!
But soon I saw them both no more,
The sun and the ship together,
For the wind began to hoot and to roar,
And there was stormy weather.
Yet every day the golden ball
Rests on the edge of the sky;
The sun it is, with the ship and all,
For the ship sailed into the golden ball
Across the edge of the sky.
LITTLE Boy
From Savoy,
With the slouch-sandalled feet,
With the pipe in your hand,
To play on, as you stand
In the long, stony, stupid, stumbling street;
I heard a noise just now,
And I got up from my desk,
Saying, “What can be the row?”
For the dogs went bow-wow,
And I-cannot-tell-you-how
Went your music; and the whole thing was grotesque.
Then I saw you, picturesque,
In the weather,
With a feather
In your rough wide-awake,
And a bowl,
Poor young soul!
In your hand for the coppers you might take;
And the handsome face you had,
Little lad,
Olive skin of the South,
Large eyes and well-set mouth,
I admired very much, yes, I did;
And I wished you back again
To your dear native plain
On the loose with a marmot or a kid;
With your father, and a bag full of money,
In a cottage all your own
Pretty much got up of stone,
And with flocks
In the rocks
At your call, and the maids,
Blue-kirtled, in the shades,
And a score of beehives very full of honey!