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The Quangle Wangle
On top of the Crumpetty Tree, The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see, On account of his Beaver hat, For his hat was a hundred and two feet wide, With ribbons and bibbons on every side, And bells and buttons and loops and lace, So that no-body ever could see the face,  Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.The Quangle Wangle said, To himself on the Crumpetty tree, ‘Jam and Jelly; and bread; Are the best of food for me! But the longer I sit on this Crumpety Tree The plainer than ever it seems to me, That very few people come this way And that life on the whole is far from gay!’ Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.But there came to the Crumpetty tree, Mr and Mrs Canary; And they said, - ‘Did you ever see, Any spot so charmingly airy? May we build our nest on your lovely hat? Mr Quangle Wangle Grant us that! O please let us come and build a nest, Of whatever material suits you best, Mr Quangle Wangle Quee!’And besides to the Crumpetty Tree, Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl; The Snail and the Bumble-Bee, The Frog and the Fimble fowl; The Fimble Fowl with the corkscrew leg! And all of them said, -‘We humbly beg We may build our homes on your lovely Hat,; Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!”And the Golden Grouse came there, And the Pobble who has no toes, And the small Olympian Bear, - And the Dong with the luminous nose. And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, And the Orient Calf from the land of Tute, And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, - All came and built on the lovely Hat Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, - “When all these creatures move What a wonderful noise there’ll be!” And at night by the light of the Mulberry Moon, They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, And all were as happy as happy could be, With the Quangle Wangle Quee.The Jumblies They went to sea in a sieve, they did, In a Sieve they went to sea; In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter’s morn, on a stormy day, In a Sieve they went to sea! And when the Sieve turned round and round, And everyone cried, ‘You’ll all be drowned!’ They called aloud, ‘Our Sieve ain’t big, But we don’t care a button! We don’t care a fig! In a Sieve we’ll go to sea!’ Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. They sailed away in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they sailed so fast, With only a beautiful pea green veil, Tied with a ribband by way of a sail, To a small tobacco pipe mast; And everyone said who saw them go, ‘O won’t they soon be upset you know! For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long, And happen what may, it’s extremely wrong In a Sieve to sail so fast!’ Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. The water it soon came in it did, The water it soon came in; So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet, In a pinky paper all folded neat, And they fastened it down with a pin. And they passed the night in a crockery jar, And each of them said, ‘How wise we are! Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long, Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong, While round in our Sieve we spin!’ Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. And all night long they sailed away; And when the sun went down, They whistled and warbled a moony song, In the shade of the mountains brown. ‘O Timballo! How happy we are, When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar, And all night long in the moonlight pale, We sail away with a pea green sail in the shade of the mountains brown!’ Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. They sailed to the Western Sea, they did, To a land all covered with trees, And they bought an owl, and a useful cart, And a pound of rice, and a Cranberry Tart, And a hive of silvery Bees. And they bought a pig, and some green Jackdaws, And a lovely monkey with lollipop paws, And forty bottles of Ring-Bow-Ree, And no end of Stilton cheese. Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. And in twenty years they all came back, In twenty years or more, And everyone said, ‘How tall they’ve grown! For they’ve been to the Lakes, and the Torrible zone, And the hills of the Chankly Bore’; And they drank their health, and gave them a feast, Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; And everyone said, ‘If we only live, We too will go to sea in a Sieve, - To the hills of the Chankly Bore!’ Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live, Their heads are green and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a Sieve. The Pobble Who has No Toes The Pobble who has no toes, Had once as many as we, When they said, ‘some day you may lose them all!’ He replied, ‘Fishfiddledidee!’ And his Auint Jobiska made him drink, Lavender water tinged with pink, For she said, ‘The world in general knows There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!’ The Pobble who has no toes, Swam across the Bristol Channel, But before he set out he wrapped his nose, In a piece of scarlet flannel. For his Aunt Jobiska said, ‘No harm Can come to his toes if his nose is warm: And it’s perfectly known that a Pobble’s toes Are safe, provided he minds his nose.’ The Pobble swam fast and well, And when boats or ships came near him, He tinkledy-binkeldy-winkled a bell So that all the world could hear him. And all the sailors and Admirals cried, When they saw him nearing the further side, ‘He has gone to fish for his Aunt Jobiska’s Runcible cat with crimson whiskers!’ But before he touched the shore, The shore of the Bristol Channel, A sea-green Porpoise carried away His wrapper of scarlet flannel. And when he came to observe his feet, Formerly garnished with toes so neat, His face at once became forlorn, On perceiving that all his toes were gone! And nobody ever knew, From that dark day to the present, Whoso had taken the Pobble’s toes In a manner so far from pleasant. Whether the shrimps or crawfish gay, Or crafty mermaids stole them away – No-body knew; and nobody knows How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes! The Pobble who has no toes, Was placed in a friendly Bark, And they rowed him back, and carried him up, To his Aunt Jobiska’s Park. And she made him a feast at his earnest wish Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish; - And she said, - It’s a fact the whole world knows, That Pobbles are happier without their toes.’ |