Harry Graham

“ When the hand of ev'ry Briton, 'spite of glove or woolly mitten,
By the frost severely bitten, grows as frigid as a stone,
When he scuttles like a lizard through the bitter biting blizzard,
Which benumbs his very gizzard and which chills him to the bone;
When the constable stands scowling, where the hurricane is howling,
Or goes miserably prowling, with no shelter from the storm,
And the working-man, half-fuddled, jug to bosom closely cuddled,
In each public-house is huddled, in his efforts to get warm ”

“ By clatter and racket his nerves are unstrung;
He is followed about, like a second Pied Piper,
By droves of the clamorous young!
All in vain does he seek for some haven of quiet;
No room in the building is free from their riot! ”

“ Two outlines I hazily trace
Of ev'ry cock-pheasant, and shooting grows pleasant
When each single bird is a brace;
Each teal has a twin, ev'ry black-cock a brother,
And so I am bound to hit one or the other! ”

“ THE CYNIC'S CHRISTMAS [115]
Christmas is here! Let us deck ev'ry dwelling
With evergreen branches and mistletoe boughs!
With thoughts philanthropic our bosoms are swelling,
No shadow should darken our brows! ”

“ And though ev'ry journal, with cunning infernal,
Our speeches refuses to quote,
Our conduct bears witness to feminine fitness,
And shows we are ripe for the Vote!
On roofs and in cellars we've hidden,
We've chained ourselves firmly to posts,
Attended receptions, without being bidden,
And heckled political hosts.
With dog-whip and missile, with bell and with whistle,
Our cause we have sought to promote;
By scratching and squalling, by biting and brawling,
We've proved ourselves fit for the Vote! ”

“ Shall we say, recollecting the gift that we bought her,
'Dear Jane is a trifle more dear than we thought her'?)
Christmas is here! Let us go serenading, [118]
In glees and in madrigals raising our voice,
In the snow of the street, 'neath your windows parading,
O maidens divine of our choice!
(But we mustn't forget how our last Christmas carols
Were spoilt by your parents' inhuman attacks,
When they brought out their shot-guns and emptied both barrels
Bang into the smalls of our backs!
If one justly expects some applause and encoring,
A ball in the back is excessively boring!) ”

“ That there's nothing much diviner than the pleasures of the Spring!
[98]
When the maiden, matinéeing, from some playhouse portals straying
(Where her favourite is playing) , grows as crusty as a crab,
While her fiancé ungainly—so unlike dear Harry Ainley!—
In the snow is seeking vainly (ah! how vainly!) for a cab;
When he cusses and she fusses, as they note how full each 'bus is [99]
Of that crowd of oafs and hussies it refuses to disgorge,
Till they hail some passing taxi, with expressions wild and waxy
(Like the language Leo Maxse always uses of Lloyd George) ! ”

“ FEBRUARY [95]
['Really, there must be something rather fine in the English character that enables it to triumph over the English climate.'—The Pall Mall Gazette.]
I gaze each morning through my rainswept casement,
Into the murky, mud-bound street below;
I grimly note the slush that floods the basement,
The hail, the sleet—and oh!
I feel that I am greater than I know!
Only a demigod could thrive
'Mid such surroundings drear;
Only a hero could survive
In such an atmosphere!
Each day the sullen sky becomes more leaden,
The weather grows less suited to a dog ”

“ The air, as it were, is with somnolence seething,
And nothing is heard but their stertorous breathing!
[88]
No card-games are played here, and even 'Old Maid' here
Its votaries find uninviting;
You might get a quorum for (say) 'Snip-snap-snorem,'
But 'Patience' is deemed too exciting;
While rubbers of Bridge (should you chance to require some)
With partners all 'sleeping' prove terribly tiresome! ”

“ The smile that he wears at a ball or a 'swarry,'
Remarked: 'You are always correct, boys. I'm sorry!'
With awe and respect did each 'cop' watch [63]
A creature so rare, so unique,
Who questioned no constable's stop-watch,
Who showed neither temper nor pique,
But said, 'Do your duty!' in tones rich and fruity,
Admitting at once his transgression,
Content to take their word, with never a swear-word,
To leave an unpleasant impression ”

“ Sprinkles pepper on this club's especial oyster,
And you hear a well-known jurist
Or some literary purist
Telling anecdotes unsuited to the cloister!
Here you'll notice, too, a perfect portrait-gallery [78]
Of those mummers who immortal have become,
Though they earned, no doubt, a less prodigious salary
Than the moderns who more lucratively mum.
On these walls they all assemble,
Garrick, Matthews, Irving, Kemble,
Men who knew what the traditions of the stage meant,
In the days when ev'ry mummer
Wore a sealskin coat in summer
And would scorn a common music-hall engagement! ”

“ Minor bards may work like niggers,
Framing epic rhyme or rune,
To extol the timely rigours
Of an English June;
Though its charms I well remember,
I prefer November!
Though the tourists sing together
When July is warm and bright,
While to sportsmen on the heather,
Bent on bagging fur and feather,
August brings delight;
Though September's seldom stormy,
And October, chill and dry,
Carries joy to every Dormy-
House from Wick to Rye;
Yet (since I am not a member)
I prefer November!
In the street the slime may spatter [114]
Ev'ry wretched passer-by ”

“ Ladders lean on ev'ry landing,
Pails repose on ev'ry stair,
Painters, who on planks are standing,
Block the road to ev'rywhere,
And with pigments evil-smelling
Drive us from our dismal dwelling.
Stairs are carpetless to step on,
Bannisters are far from dry,
While (like Damocles's weapon)
Plaster threatens from on high. ”

“ THE SPORTING SPIRIT [40]
['The emotional surprise and the unexpected suddenness in the rise of game require great accuracy, rapidity, and nerve control, and experience is in my favour that there are some who are improved in these essentials of good shooting by a little alcohol at lunch.'—Dr. T. Claye Shaw in the Times.]
It once was my habit to miss ev'ry rabbit
At which I might happen to fire;
I wasted each cartridge despatching some partridge
To die in a neighbouring shire. ”

“ Ev'ry mother shall borrow [116]
Her spouse's best stockings to tie to the cot
Of the baby, who hopes they'll contain, on the morrow,
Drums, trumpets, and goodness knows what!
(But it's rather a blow when the footwear allotted
To hang full of goodies and toys through the night,
Is returned to its owner, misshapen and clotted
With toffee and Turkish Delight;
While a drum is a bore if you constantly thump it,
And life can be poisoned by sounds from a trumpet!) ”

“ And ev'ry dumb creature is healthy and happy.
Each sheep is diverted with suitable toys
That shall keep it obese and contented;
Ev'ry pig, whose delectable flesh one enjoys,
With a doll or a drum is presented;
For 'tis thus that I nurture those succulent lambs
That are always so sweet and so tender,
And secure those remarkably delicate hams
Which the sow is so loth to surrender;
Ev'ry egg (as supplied to our own Royal Fam'ly)
Is hatched by a hen who has patronised Hamley!
Each ox is devoted to 'Animal Grab,' [28]
Ev'ry heifer plays 'tag' with a wether ”

“ Till with the expression 'Jam satis!'
Lord Rosebery laughed them to scorn;
And soon Mr. Gosse and the groundlings were snarling
At one who must style himself Nobody's Darling!
And now when I purchase their pictures, [5]
Or bid for some family seat,
Men pass most disparaging strictures,
Discussing my action with heat;
While newspapers term it a 'public disaster'
Each time I endeavour to buy an Old Master!
The country I rob of its treasures
(By carting its ruins away!) ;
I lessen all popular pleasures
By spoiling the market, they say ”

“ With which the Briton loves to face
Each human fellow-creature.
Here sire meets son, or brother brother,
And neither need address the other!
Within this dignified retreat,
From Government or Opposition,
The Whigs of all opinions meet,
Eyeing each other, as they eat,
With looks of dumb suspicion.
Here Unionist regards Home Ruler [83]
With feelings daily growing cooler. ”

“ To laud the 'Waster' and his ways!
I love to watch my hero,
As through the streets he struts,
With loud 'Pip! Pip!' or 'Cheer Oh!'
Greeting his fellow-Nuts,
And haunting ev'ry public bar
To cadge a cocktail or cigar!
[34]
Each Saturday, at Brighton,
How well he plays the rôle
Of Admirable Crichton,
At Grand or Metropole!
The British Lion's whelp, indeed,
True scion of the Bulldog Breed!
The 'unco guid' may censure, [35]
The prudes their eyebrows raise ”

“ His way to fame a man may well win,
Who sits where Sheridan and Fox
Discoursed of dice or fighting-cocks
With Wilberforce and Selwyn;
Where modern wits and legislators
Converse with no one but the waiters!
CANTO VII [84]
'THE BEEFSTEAK'
While Germans eat flesh that is said to be equine,
And Chinamen batten on birds' nests and dogs,
While Frenchmen with vin ordinaire (such a weak wine!)
Ingurgitate molluscs and frogs,
The Briton, old-fashioned, in language empassioned,
On underdone oxen demands to be fed ”

“ Ev'ry writer of the purest
Prose shall be a 'scribbler,'
Till the Gribbles cease to gribble
And no more the Whibleys whibble!
THE LYONS CUBS [22]
['Waiting is a good, and often a lucrative profession, which must be freed from the hostile prejudice entertained by the ordinary British family. On the Continent and in America there is no such prejudice, and University men often find the profession worth entering.'—Evening Paper.] ”

“ And the pigs play 'Backgammon' together.
'Pitch-and-toss' is the favourite game of the bull,
'Ducks-and-drakes' makes the goslings feel perky,
While the crossest old ram never 'loses his wool'
When he plays 'Rouge-et-noir' with the turkey;
Which is why all my produce—cheese, poultry or mutton—
Appeals to the taste of both gourmet and glutton!
THE ADVENTURER [29]
['Gentleman, aged 26, seeks adventure; well up in finance, badminton, tennis, swimming, canoeing, bridge, and mechanics; banker's reference, if required.'—The Times.] ”

“ THE 'WASTER' [33]
['I think that in certain respects the 'Waster' is one of the great forces of Empire; it is in him that the spirit of the Elizabethan gentleman adventurer survives most vigorously. To me the waster is a peculiarly English product; in many respects he appeals to me more than any one in the community.'—Sir Herbert Tree.]
When others praise the pious,
My own response is faint ”

“ As in motors we are hurried
Wildly to and fro,
We perchance shall not disparage
Horse-drawn omnibus or carriage!
STAGE SUPPORT [17]
[The prospective Unionist candidate for Hoxton, at his first meeting, was supported by Lord Shrewsbury, the Hon. Claude Hay, and Mr. George Robey.]
When I stand as 'Independent' next election,
I shall vanquish my opponents, Smith and Brown.
(Smith's a Unionist, in favour of Protection,
Brown's a Radical Free Trader of renown.)
But my triumph at the polls I shall attribute, I confess,
To the men of light and leading whose assistance spelt success. ”

“ Then tell me—and grateful I'll be to you, very—
Oh, tell me why Christmas was ever called 'Merry'!
ENVOI [119]
[All work, says a well-known humorist, is an unutterable bore. All that concerns the writer are the cheques his work brings him in.] ”

“ Since Nature's lute has many a rift—
By 'cries' which Tube and 'bus provide:
'Fares please!' ''Old tight, miss!' 'Full inside!'
'No smoking in the lift!'
· · · ·
And oh! the gulf that separates
'Sweet lavender!' from 'Mind the gates!'
THE MODEL FARM [27]
['If you want good milk, butter, cheese, beef, mutton, and bacon, keep the animals which supply these things amused—give them toys, in fact.'—The Daily Mirror.] ”

“ Take ev'ry so-called work of art
And (with a nation's thanks) depart!
Remove each Royal Portrait, do,
Each Presentation Bust,
And all those Problem Pictures, too,
Which have to be discussed.
Take ev'ry daub that's labelled 'Spring'
Or 'Chelsea in a Fog,'
Or 'Home again!' or 'Baby's Swing,'
Or 'Mrs. A. and Dog.'
Take 'Hanging up the Mistletoe!'
And (with the public's blessing) go!
Then prosecute your search elsewhere, [60]
If fame you wish to win ”

“ Let others envy wealthy men [7]
—The Rothschilds, Vanderbilts or Cassels—
I'd much prefer, I must aver,
Like lucky Mr. Lascelles,
To travel well supplied with posies
Of (on the 'Underground') Tube-roses!
THE TRIUMPH OF JAM [8]
(With shamefaced apologies to the author of a beautiful poem)
[The Daily Mirror, in a leading article, deplored the fact that 'roly-poly' pudding, otherwise known as 'jam-roll,' was not to be obtained at fashionable West End restaurants.] ”