Harry Graham: The Choice
A well-known lady dog-fancier informed a representative of the Daily Mirror that, in case of fire, she would most certainly save her dog rather than her husband.
»Go! Sound the fire alarm!« she cried.
»My house is all ablaze inside!
The flames are spreading far and wide;
The air with smoke is laden!
My darling's in an upper room!
Oh, save him from a fiery tomb!«
Straight, as she spoke, through sparks and fume
Came brave Lieutenant Sladen.
Quoth he: »The horsed-escape is here, ma'am;
We'll save your husband, never fear, ma'am!«
»My husband?« she replied. »Nay, nay!
Don't waste your time on him, I pray,
But turn your thoughts without delay
To things that really matter.
For though my weaker-half's asleep,
A faithful lap-dog, too, I keep,
And if I hold the former cheap,
I idolise the latter.
Gladly, to save the best of bow-wows,
I'd sacrifice,« she sobbed, »my spou-ouse!
How prettily my nose he licks!
(I'm speaking of the dog) and pricks
His ears and barks, while as for tricks
He never seems to tire, man!
He'll balance sugar on his snout –«
From burning windows came a shout;
Her husband suddenly leaned out
And thus adressed the fireman:
»You've seen the sort of wife I cherish;
Then be humane and – let me perish!«
Sonntag, 15. Januar 2017
Harry Graham (12)
Sonntag ist Harry-Graham-Tag; heute ein Gedicht aus »The Motley Muse«:
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