Deportmental ditties : and other verses . vade the land we love,Dropping (like the dew of Hennon)From above ! Woe is me! What Man proposesProvidence at times resists; And the way an airship goes isCrooked as a Suffragists! Adverse breezes, that to-day fromWestminster to Croydon blow, Waft Miss Matters miles away fromCannon Kow! What a lesson for each maid is To be learnt from such a case,Of the foolishness of ladies Who would fly in Natures face;Who to such mad lengths are going, By the winds of folly fannd,That theres certainly no knowing Where theyll land!91 CRIME AND CLIME (Cold is conduciv
Deportmental ditties : and other verses . vade the land we love,Dropping (like the dew of Hennon)From above ! Woe is me! What Man proposesProvidence at times resists; And the way an airship goes isCrooked as a Suffragists! Adverse breezes, that to-day fromWestminster to Croydon blow, Waft Miss Matters miles away fromCannon Kow! What a lesson for each maid is To be learnt from such a case,Of the foolishness of ladies Who would fly in Natures face;Who to such mad lengths are going, By the winds of folly fannd,That theres certainly no knowing Where theyll land!91 CRIME AND CLIME (Cold is conducive to crime, says the Family Doctor. In low temperatures the evil inhuman nature is developed to an alarming degree.) In summer, when at early dawn The solar rays about me flicker,I tend my pigs, or mow the lawn, Or play at ping-pong with the smile is innocent and bland, My temper meek and mild and mellow,Id eat out of a persons hand, Im such a harmless fellow.(An ass, as friends inform each other,But so devoted to his mother ! ). In winter, when a blizzard blows, And drives thermometers to zero,I unexpectedly disclose The worst propensities of caution to the winds I fling, Sheer dissipation my delight is;While even Mothers suffering From chronic Suffragitis,And keeps a record, neatly written,Of all the constables shes bitten. 92 Crime and Clime In summer, should I wish fco read, My simple Literary fanci<Arc satisfied by Mrs. Meade, Or Mrs. Humphrey Wards winter, when the days draw in, I crush my conscience, NonconformistBeneath the Latest Mrs. G-lyn, Or Mr. Waless wannest;While Mother skips from Mr. GossesTo volumes of Victoria Crosses. In summer, when some relative Commits a burglary, or forges,I see no reason to forgive Such quite unseasonable orgies;But when, in winter, I imbibe Too freely ere I seek my pillow,To Englands climate I ascribe This trifling peccadillo. See, Mother dear, how wild the weather !Lets go and crack a crib together !
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