Quote from: Lori Dee on November 23, 2024, 11:30:00 PM'''
Little Willy in the best of sashes
Fell in the fire and was burned to ashes.
By and by, the room grew chilly,
But no one dared to poke up Willy.
''''
That rhyme originally appeared in a late Victorian collection called
Ruthless Rhymes for Heartless Homes
as
Tender-HeartednessBilly, in one of his nice new sashes
Fell in the fire and was burnt to ashes;
Now, although the room grows chilly
I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy
Another of my favourites from that collection is
The Perils of ObesityYestersay my gun exploded
When I thought it wasn't loaded;
Near my wife I pressed the trigger,
Chipped a fragment off her figure;
'Course I'm sorry and all that
But she shouldn't be so fat
The following poem reminds us what happens when masochists torture sadists.
Self-SacrificeFather, chancing to chastise
His indignant daughter Sue
Said, "I hope you realize
That this hurts me more than you."
Susan straightway ceased to roar.
"If that's really true," said she
"I can stand a good deal more;
Pray go on, and don't mind me."