robation, and its tenderness duly
appreciated.
But the Nonsense Verses were the best fun. One would shout out a line,
an additional line would come from some one else, and by the time the
whole thing was complete, it would be hard to discriminate as to who
was the author.
Here is one hurled at me:
There was a Canon named Knowles,
Whose mission it was to save souls;
When out on this trip,
He said, "Let them rip,
We'll save them all yet from the coals."
Some of our young ladies were deeply interested in the sailor boys at
war, and for their benefit this nonsense had wing:
There was a young lady named Harding,
Whose sweetheart, the nation was guarding.
The rumor of war,
Went to her heart's core
For fear he'd be lost while bombarding.
These verses, too, have a maritime flavor:
There was a young lady of nerve,
Who bet on the Naval Reserve.
She got a flat cap
Like that of her chap,
And said, "This our love will preserve."
We had lots of others, and ever so many good stories, but it is time to
end. This last must suffice for the Nonsense Verses:
There was a young lady _en route_,
Who wanted to go on a toot,
So she jumped off the ca--ah
When no one was ne--ah,
And feasted on candy and fruit.
This was the favorite refrain of all, for its reckless suggestions, and
the special intonations of its third and fourth lines. Its echoes would
sound out in the most unexpected connections--
"So she jumped off the ca--ah
When no one was ne--ah,"
and then would come a merry peal of laughter.
Sometimes the laughter even, would cease, and, we were all so free and
unaffected, that siestas were taken, quite unceremoniously, when
silence would settle down upon our party.
In such a quiet interval, one of our fair sleepers inspired the
following lines, as she lay at rest, on the couch in the dining-room.
This is what the poet said:
TO ETHEL ASLEEP
Our car glides on with giddy speed,
But Ethel feels no motion;
Her soul and body take no heed,
Wrapt still, in sleep's deep ocean.
And as I gaze on her sweet face,
So placid, true and tender;
The wish for her I fain would trace
Is this--May Heaven defend her!
'Mid all the whirling cares of life,
May peaceful rest come to her;
And sleep, no matter what the strife,
Be ever
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