The Home Book of Verse Volume Iv Part 43

ON THE ARISTOCRACY OF HARVARD

And this is good old Boston, The home of the bean and the cod, Where the Lowells talk to the Cabots And the Cabots talk only to G.o.d.

John Collins Bossidy [1860-1928]

ON THE DEMOCRACY OF YALE

Here's to the town of New Haven, The home of the Truth and the Light, Where G.o.d talks to Jones in the very same tones That He uses with Hadley and Dwight!

Frederick Scheetz Jones [1862-

A GENERAL SUMMARY

We are very slightly changed From the semi-apes who ranged India's prehistoric clay; Whoso drew the longest bow, Ran his brother down, you know, As we run men down to-day.

"Dowb," the first of all his race, Met the Mammoth face to face On the lake or in the cave, Stole the steadiest canoe, Ate the quarry others slew, Died--and took the finest grave.

When they scratched the reindeer-bone, Someone made the sketch his own, Filched it from the artist--then, Even in those early days, Won a simple Viceroy's praise Through the toil of other men.

Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage, Favoritism governed kissage, Even as it does in this age.

Who shall doubt "the secret hid Under Cheops' pyramid"

Was that the contractor did Cheops out of several millions?

Or that Joseph's sudden rise To Comptroller of Supplies Was a fraud of monstrous size On King Pharaoh's swart Civilians?

Thus, the artless songs I sing Do not deal with anything New or never said before.

As it was in the beginning, Is to-day official sinning, And shall be for evermore!

Rudyard Kipling [1865-1936]

THE MIMICS

AN OMAR FOR LADIES

I One for her Club and her own Latch-key fights, Another wastes in Study her good Nights.

Ah, take the Clothes and let the Culture go, Nor heed the grumble of the Women's Rights!

Look at the Shop-girl all about us--"Lo, The Wages of a month," she says, "I blow Into a Hat, and when my hair is waved, Doubtless my Friend will take me to the Show."

And she who saved her coin for Flannels red, And she who caught Pneumonia instead, Will both be Underground in Fifty Years, And Prudence pays no Premium to the dead.

Th' exclusive Style you set your heart upon Gets to the Bargain counters--and anon, Like monograms on a Saleslady's tie, Cheers but a moment--soon for you 'tis gone.

Think, in the sad Four Hundred's gilded halls, Whose endless Leisure ev'n themselves appalls, How Ping-pong raged so high--then faded out To those far Suburbs that still chase its b.a.l.l.s.

They say Sixth Avenue and the Bowery keep The dernier cri that once was far from cheap; Green veils, one season chic--Department stores Mark down in vain--no profit shall they reap.

II I sometimes think that never lasts so long The Style as when it starts a bit too strong; That all the Pompadours the parterre boasts Some Chorus-girl began, with Dance and Song.

And this Revival of the Chignon low That fills the most of us with helpless Woe, Ah, criticise it Softly! for who knows What long-necked Peeress had to wear it so!

Ah, my beloved, try each Style you meet; To-day brooks no loose ends, you must be neat.

Tomorrow! why tomorrow you may be Wearing it down your back like Marguerite!

For some we once admired, the Very Best That ever a French hand-boned Corset prest, Wore what they used to call Prunella Boots, And put on Nightcaps ere they went to rest.

And we that now make fun of Waterfalls They wore, and whom their Crinoline appalls, Ourselves shall from old dusty Fas.h.i.+on plates a.s.sist our Children in their Costume b.a.l.l.s.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may wear, Before we grow so old that we don't care!

Before we have our Hats made all alike, Sans Plumes, sans Wings, sans Chiffon, and--sans Hair!

III Alike to her who Dines both Loud and Long, Or her who Banting shuns the Dinner-gong, Some Doctor from his Office chair will shout, "It makes no Difference--both of you are Wrong!"

Why, all the Health-Reformers who discussed High Heels and Corsets learnedly are thrust Square-toed and Waistless forth; their Duds are scorned, And Venus might as well have been a Bust.

Myself when slim did eagerly frequent Delsarte and Ling, and heard great Argument Of muscles trained to Hold me up, but still Spent on my Modiste what I'd always spent!

With walking Clubs I did the best I could; With my own Feet I tramped my Ten Miles, good; And this was All that I got out of it-- I ate much more for Dinner than I should.

And fear not lest your Rheumatism seize The Joy of Life from other people's Sprees; The Art will not have Perished--au contraire, Posterity will practise it with Ease!