The Toad and the Snail. Revolting Rhymes & Dirty Beasts

Roald Dahl's

Revolting Rhymes & Dirty Beasts

Revolting Rhymes

CINDERELLA

I guess you think you know this story.

You don’t. The real one’s much more gory.

The phoney one, the one you know,

Was cooked up years and years ago,

And made to sound all soft and sappy

Just to keep the children happy.

Mind you, they got the first bit right,

The bit where, in the dead of night,

The Ugly Sisters, jewels and all,

Departed for the Palace Ball,

While darling little Cinderella

Was locked up in a slimy cellar,

Where rats who wanted things to eat,

Began to nibble at her feet.

She bellowed ‘Help!’ and ‘Let me out!’

The Magic Fairy heard her shout.

Appearing in a blaze of light,

She said, ‘My dear, are you all right?’

‘All right?’ cried Cindy. ‘Can’t you see

‘I feel as rotten as can be!’

She beat her fist against the wall,

And shouted, ‘Get me to the Ball!

‘There is a Disco at the Palace!

‘The rest have gone and I am jalous!

‘I want a dress! I want a coach!

‘And earrings and a diamond brooch!

‘And silver slippers, two of those!

‘And lovely nylon panty-hose!

‘Done up like that I’ll guarantee

‘The handsome Prince will fall for me!’

The Fairy said, ‘Hang on a tick.’

She gave her wand a mighty flick

And quickly, in no time at all,

Cindy was at the Palace Ball!

It made the Ugly Sisters wince

To see her dancing with the Prince.

She held him very tight and pressed

herself against his manly chest.

The Prince himself was turned to pulp,

All he could do was gasp and gulp.

Then midnight struck. She shouted, ‘Heck!

‘I’ve got to run to save my neck!’

The Prince cried, ‘No! Alas! Alack!’

He grabbed her dress to hold her back.

As Cindy shouted, ‘Let me go!’

The dress was ripped from head to toe.

She ran out in her underwear,

And lost one slipper on the stair.

The Prince was on it like a dart,

He pressed it to his pounding heart,

‘The girl this slipper fits,’ he cried,

‘Tomorrow morn shall be my bride!

‘I’ll visit every house in town

‘Until I’ve tracked the maiden down!’

Then rather carelessly, I fear,

He placed it on a crate of beer.

At once, one of the Ugly Sisters,

(The one whose face was blotched with blisters)

Sneaked up and grabbed the dainty shoe,

And quickly flushed it down the loo.

Then in its place she calmly put

The slipper from her own left foot.

Ah-ha, you see, the plot grows thicker,

And Cindy’s luck starts looking sicker.

Next day, the Prince went charging down

To knock on all the doors in town.

In every house, the tension grew.

Who was the owner of the shoe?

The shoe was long and very wide.

(A normal foot got lost inside.)

Also it smelled a wee bit icky.

(The owner’s feet were hot and sticky.)

Thousands of eager people came

To try it on, but all in vain.

Now came the Ugly Sisters’ go.

One tried it on. The Prince screamed, ‘No!’

But she screamed, ‘Yes! It fits! Whoopee!

‘So now you’ve got to marry me!’

The Prince went white from ear to ear.

He muttered, ‘Let me out of here.’

‘Oh no you don’t! You made a vow!

‘There’s no way you can back out now!’

‘Off with her head!’ The Prince roared back.

They chopped it off with one big whack.

This pleased the Prince. He smiled and said,

‘She’s prettier without her head.’

Then up came Sister Number Two,

Who yelled, ‘Now I will try the shoe!’

‘Try this instead!’ the Prince yelled back.

He swung his trusty sword and smack -

Her head went crashing to the ground.

It bounced a bit and rolled around.

In the kitchen, peeling spuds,

Cinderella heard the thuds

Of bouncing heads upon the floor,

And poked her own head round the door.

‘What’s all the racket?’ Cindy cried.

‘Mind your own bizz,’ the Prince replied.

Poor Cindy’s heart was torn to shreds.

My Prince! she thought. He chops off heads!

How could I marry anyone

Who does that sort of thing for fun?

The Prince cried, ‘Who’s this dirty slut?

‘Off with her nut! Off with her nut!’

Just then, all in a blaze of light,

The Magic Fairy hove in sight,

Her Magic Wand went swoosh and swish!

‘Cindy!’ she cried, ‘come make a wish!

‘Wish anything and have no doubt

‘That I will make it come about!’

Cindy answered, ‘Oh kind Fairy,

‘This time I shall be more wary.

‘No more Princes, no more money.

‘I have had my taste of honey.

‘I’m wishing for a decent man.

‘They’re hard to find. D’you think you can?’

Within a minute, Cinderella

Was married to a lovely feller,

A simple jam-maker by trade,

Who sold good home-made marmalade.

Their house was filled with smiles and laughter

And they were happy ever after.

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK

Jack’s mother said, ‘We’re stony broke!

‘Go out and find some wealthy bloke

‘Who’ll buy our cow. Just say she’s sound

‘And worth at least a hundred pound.

‘But don’t you dare to let him know

‘That she’s as old as billy-o.’

Jack led the old brown cow away,

And came back later in the day,

And said, ‘Oh mumsie dear, guess what

‘Your clever little boy has got.

‘I got, I really don’t know how,

‘A super trade-in for our cow. ‘

The mother said, ‘You little creep,

‘I’ll bet you sold her much too cheap.’

When Jack produced one lousy bean,

His startled mother, turning green,

Leaped high up in the air and cried,

‘I’m absolutely stupefied!

‘You crazy boy! D’you really mean

‘You sold our Daisy for a bean?’

She snatched the bean. She yelled, ‘You chump.

And flung it on the rubbish-dump.

Then summoning up all her power,

She beat the boy for half an hour,

Using (and nothing could be meaner)

The handle of a vacuum-cleaner.

At ten p.m. or thereabout,

The little bean began to sprout.

By morning it had grown so tall

You couldn’t see the top at all.

Young Jack cried, ‘Mum, admit it now!

‘It’s better than a rotten cow!’

The mother said, ‘You lunatic!

‘Where are the beans that I can pick?

‘There’s not one bean! It’s bare as bare!’

‘No no!’ cried Jack. ‘You look up there!

‘Look very high and you’ll behold

‘Each single leaf is solid gold!’

By gollikins, the boy was right!

Now, glistening in the morning light,

The mother actually perceives

A mass of lovely golden leaves!

She yells out loud, ‘My sainted souls!

‘I’ll sell the Mini, buy a Rolls!

‘Don’t stand and gape, you little clot!

‘Get up there quick and grab the lot!’

Jack was nimble, Jack was keen.

He scrambled up the mighty bean.

Up up he went without a stop,

But just as he was near the top,

A ghastly frightening thing occurred -

Not far above his head he heard

A big deep voice, a rumbling thing

That made the very heavens ring.

It shouted loud, ‘FEE Fl FO FUM

‘I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISHMAN!’

Jack was frightened, Jack was quick,

And down he climbed in half a tick.

‘Oh mum!’ he gasped. ‘Believe you me

‘There’s something nasty up our tree!

‘I saw him, mum! My gizzard froze!

‘A Giant with a clever nose!’

‘A clever nose!’ his mother hissed.

‘You must be going round the twist!’

‘He smelled me out, I swear it, mum!

‘He said he smelled an Englishman!’

The mother said, ‘And well he might!

‘I’ve told you every single night

‘To take a bath because you smell,

‘But would you do it? Would you hell!

‘You even make your mother shrink

‘Because of your unholy stink!’

Jack answered, ‘Well, if you’re so clean

‘Why don’t you climb the crazy bean.’

The mother cried, ‘By gad, I will!

‘There’s life within the old dog still!’

She hitched her skirts above her knee

And disappeared right up the tree.

Now would the Giant smell his mum?

Jack listened for the fee-fo-fum.

He gazed aloft. He wondered when

The dreaded words would come... And then...

From somewhere high above the ground

There came a frightful crunching sound.

He heard the Giant mutter twice,

‘By gosh, that tasted very nice.

‘Although’ (and this in grumpy tones)

‘I wish there weren’t so many bones.’

‘By Christopher!’ Jack cried. ‘By gum!

‘The Giant’s eaten up my mum!

‘He smelled her out! She’s in his belly!

‘I had a hunch that she was smelly.’

Jack stood there gazing longingly

Upon the huge and golden tree.

He murmured softly, ‘Golly-gosh,

‘I guess I’ll have to take a wash

‘If I am going to climb this tree

‘Without the Giant smelling me.

‘In fact, a bath’s my only hope...

He rushed indoors and grabbed the soap

He scrubbed his body everywhere.

He even washed and rinsed his hair.

He did his teeth, he blew his nose

And went out smelling like a rose.

Once more he climbed the mighty bean.

The Giant sat there, gross, obscene,

Muttering through his vicious teeth

(While Jack sat tensely just beneath),

Muttering loud, ‘FEE FI FO FUM,

‘RIGHT NOW I CAN’T SMELL ANYONE.’

Jack waited till the Giant slept,

Then out along the boughs he crept

And gathered so much gold, I swear

He was an instant millionaire.

‘A bath,’ he said, ‘does seem to pay.

‘I’m going to have one every day.’

SNOW-WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS

when little Snow-White’s mother died,

The king, her father, up and cried,

‘Oh, what a nuisance! What a life!

‘Now I must find another wife!’

(It’s never easy for a king

To find himself that sort of thing.)

He wrote to every magazine

And said, ‘I’m looking for a Queen.’

At least ten thousand girls replied

And begged to be the royal bride.

The king said with a shifty smile,

‘I’d like to give each one a trial.’

However, in the end he chose

A lady called Miss Maclahose,

Who brought along a curious toy

That seemed to give her endless joy -

This was a mirror framed in brass,

A MAGIC TALKING LOOKING-GLASS.

Ask it something day or night,

It always got the answer right.

For instance, if you were to say,

‘Oh Mirror, what’s for lunch today?’

The thing would answer in a trice,

‘Today it’s scrambled eggs and rice.’

Now every day, week in week out,

The spoiled and stupid Queen would shout,

‘Oh Mirror Mirror on the wall,

‘Who is the fairest of them all?’

The Mirror answered every time,

‘Oh Madam, you’re the Queen sublime.

‘You are the only one to charm us,

‘Queen, you are the cat’s pyjamas. ‘

For ten whole years the silly Queen

Repeated this absurd routine.

Then suddenly, one awful day,

She heard the Magic Mirror say,

‘From now on, Queen, you’re Number Two.

‘Snow-White is prettier than you!’

The Queen went absolutely wild.

She yelled, ‘I’m going to scrag that child!

‘I’ll cook her flaming goose! I’ll skin ‘er!

‘I’ll have her rotten guts for dinner!’

She called the Huntsman to her study.

She shouted at him, ‘Listen buddy!

‘You drag that filthy girl outside,

‘And see you take her for a ride!

‘Thereafter slit her ribs apart

‘And bring me back her bleeding heart!’

The Huntsman dragged the lovely child

Deep deep into the forest wild.

Fearing the worst, poor Snow-White spake.

She cried, ‘Oh please give me a break!’

The knife was poised, the arm was strong,

She cried again, ‘I’ve done no wrong!’

The Huntsman’s heart began to flutter.

It melted like a pound of butter.

He murmured, ‘Okay, beat it, kid,’

And you can bet your life she did.

Later, the Huntsman made a stop

Within the local butcher’s shop,

And there he bought, for safety’s sake,

A bullock’s heart and one nice steak.

‘Oh Majesty! Oh Queen!’ he cried,

‘That rotten little girl has died!

‘And just to prove I didn’t cheat,

‘I’ve brought along these bits of meat.’

‘The Queen cried out, ‘Bravissimo!

‘I trust you killed her nice and slow.’

Then (this is the disgusting part)

The Queen sat down and ate the heart!

(I only hope she cooked it well.

Boiled heart can be as tough as hell.)

While all of this was going on,

Oh where, oh where had Snow-White gone?

She’d found it easy, being pretty,

To hitch a ride in to the city,

And there she’d got a job, unpaid,

As general cook and parlour-maid

With seven funny little men,

Each one not more than three foot ten,

Ex horse-race jockeys, all of them.

These Seven Dwarfs, though awfully nice,

Were guilty of one shocking vice -

They squandered all of their resources

At the race-track backing horses.

(When they hadn’t backed a winner,

None of them got any dinner.)

One evening, Snow-White said,

‘Look here, ‘I think I’ve got a great idea.

‘Just leave it all to me, okay?

‘And no more gambling till I say.’

That very night, at eventide,

Young Snow-White hitched another ride,

And then, when it was very late,

She slipped in through the Palace gate.

The King was in his counting house

Counting out his money,

The Queen was in the parlour

Eating bread and honey,

The footmen and the servants slept

So no one saw her as she crept

On tip-toe through the mighty hall

And grabbed THE MIRROR off the wall.

As soon as she had got it home,

She told the Senior Dwarf (or Gnome)

To ask it what he wished to know.

‘Go on!’ she shouted. ‘Have a go!’

He said, ‘Oh Mirror, please don’t joke!

‘Each one of us is stony broke!

‘Which horse will win tomorrow’s race,

‘The Ascot Gold Cup Steeplechase?’

The Mirror whispered sweet and low,

‘The horse’s name is Mistletoe.’

The Dwarfs went absolutely daft,

They kissed young Snow-White fore and aft,

Then rushed away to raise some dough

With which to back old Mistletoe.

They pawned their watches, sold the car,

They borrowed money near and far,

(For much of it they had to thank

The manager of Barclays Bank.)

They went to Ascot and of course

For once they backed the winning horse.

Thereafter, every single day,

The Mirror made the bookies pay.

Each Dwarf and Snow-White got a share,

And each was soon a millionaire,

Which shows that gambling’s not a sin

Provided that you always win.

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

This famous wicked little tale

Should never have been put on sale.

It is a mystery to me

Why loving parents cannot see

That this is actually a book

About a brazen little crook.

Had I the chance I wouldn’t fail

To clap young Goldilocks in jail.

Now just imagine how you’d feel

If you had cooked a lovely meal,

Delicious porridge, steaming hot,

Fresh coffee in the coffee-pot,

With maybe toast and marmalade,

The table beautifully laid,

One place for you and one for dad,

Another for your little lad.

Then dad cries, ‘Golly-gosh! Gee-whizz!

‘Oh cripes! How hot this porridge is!

‘Let’s take a walk along the street

‘Until it’s cool enough to eat.’

He adds, ‘An early morning stroll

‘Is good for people on the whole.

‘It makes your appetite improve

‘It also helps your bowels to move.’

No proper wife would dare to question

Such a sensible suggestion,

Above all not at breakfast-time

When men are seldom at their prime.

No sooner are you down the road

Then Goldilocks, that little toad

That nosey thieving little louse,

Comes sneaking in your empty house.

She looks around. She quickly notes

Three bowls brimful of porridge oats.

And while still standing on her feet,

She grabs a spoon and starts to eat.

I say again, how would you feel

If you had made this lovely meal

And some delinquent little tot

Broke in and gobbled up the lot?

But wait! That’s not the worst of it!

Now comes the most distressing bit.

You are of course a houseproud wife,

And all your happy married life

You have collected lovely things

Like gilded cherubs wearing wings,

And furniture by Chippendale

Bought at some famous auction sale.

But your most special valued treasure,

The piece that gives you endless pleasure,

Is one small children’s dining-chair,

Elizabethan, very rare.

It is in fact your joy and pride,

Passed down to you on grandma’s side.

But Goldilocks, like many freaks,

Does not appreciate antiques.

She doesn’t care, she doesn’t mind,

And now she plonks her fat behind

Upon this dainty precious chair,

And crunch! It busts beyond repair.

A nice girl would at once exclaim,

‘Oh dear! Oh heavens! What a shame!’

Not Goldie. She begins to swear.

She bellows, ‘What a lousy chair!’

And uses one disgusting word

That luckily you’ve never heard.

(I dare not write it, even hint it.

Nobody would ever print it.)

You’d think by now this little skunk

Would have the sense to do a bunk.

But no. I very much regret

She hasn’t nearly finished yet.

Deciding she would like a rest,

She says, ‘Let’s see which bed is best.’

Upstairs she goes and tries all three.

(Here comes the next catastrophe.)

Most educated people choose

To rid themselves of socks and shoes

Before they clamber into bed.

But Goldie didn’t give a shred.

Her filthy shoes were thick with grime,

And mud and mush and slush and slime.

Worse still, upon the heel of one

Was something that a dog had done.

I say once more, what would you think

If all this horrid dirt and stink

Was smeared upon your eiderdown

By this revolting little clown?

(The famous story has no clues

To show the girl removed her shoes.)

Oh, what a tale of crime on crime!

Let’s check it for a second time.

Crime One, the prosecution’s case:

She breaks and enters someone’s place.

Crime Two, the prosecutor notes:

She steals a bowl of porridge oats.

Crime Three: She breaks a precious chair

Belonging to the Baby Bear.

Crime Four: She smears each spotless sheet

With filthy messes from her feet.

A judge would say without a blink,

‘Ten years hard labour in the clink!’

But in the book, as you will see,

The little beast gets off scot-free,

While tiny children near and far

Shout, ‘Goody-good! Hooray! Hurrah!’

‘Poor darling Goldilocks!’ they say,

‘Thank goodness that she got away!’

Myself, I think I’d rather send

Young Goldie to a sticky end.

‘Oh daddy!’ cried the Baby Bear,

‘My porridge gone! It isn’t fair!’

‘Then go upstairs,’ the Big Bear said,

‘Your porridge is upon the bed.

‘But as it’s inside mademoiselle,

‘You’ll have to eat her up as well.’

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD AND THE WOLF

As soon as Wolf began to feel

That he would like a decent meal,

He went and knocked on Grandma’s door.

When Grandma opened it, she saw

The sharp white teeth, the horrid grin,

And Wolfie said, ‘May I come in?’

Poor Grandmamma was terrified,

‘He’s going to eat me up!’ she cried.

And she was absolutely right.

He ate her up in one big bite.

But Grandmamma was small and tough,

And Wolfie wailed, ‘That’s not enough!

‘I haven’t yet begun to feel

‘That I have had a decent meal!’

He ran around the kitchen yelping,

‘I’ve got to have another helping!’

Then added with a frightful leer,

‘I’m therefore going to wait right here

‘Till Little Miss Red Riding Hood

‘Comes home from walking in the wood.’

He quickly put on Grandma’s clothes,

(Of course he hadn’t eaten those.)

He dressed himself in coat and hat.

He put on shoes and after that

He even brushed and curled his hair,

Then sat himself in Grandma’s chair.

In came the little girl in red.

She stopped. She stared. And then she said,

‘What great big ears you have, Grandma.’

‘All the better to hear you with,’ the Wolf replied.

‘What great big eyes you have, Grandma,’

said Little Red Riding Hood.

‘All the better to see you with,’ the Wolf replied.

He sat there watching her and smiled.

He thought, I’m going to eat this child.

Compared with her old Grandmamma

She’s going to taste like caviare.

Then Little Red Riding Hood said, ‘But Grandma,

what a lovely great big furry coat you have on.’

‘That’s wrong!’ cried Wolf. ‘Have you forgot

‘To tell me what BIG TEETH I’ve got?

‘Ah well, no matter what you say,

‘I’m going to eat you anyway.’

The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickers.

She whips a pistol from her knickers.

She aims it at the creature’s head

And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead.

A few weeks later, in the wood,

I came across Miss Riding Hood.

But what a change! No cloak of red,

No silly hood upon her head.

She said, ‘Hello, and do please note

‘My lovely furry WOLFSKIN COAT.’

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

The animal I really dig

Above all others is the pig.

Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,

Pigs are courteous. However,

Now and then, to break this rule,

One meets a pig who is a fool.

What, for example, would you say

If strolling through the woods one day,

Right there in front of you you saw

A pig who’d built his house of STRAW?

The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,

And said, ‘That pig has had his chips.’

‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’

‘No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!’ ‘

Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!’

The little pig began to pray,

But Wolfie blew his house away.

He shouted, ‘Bacon, pork and ham!

‘Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!’

And though he ate the pig quite fast,

He carefully kept the tail till last.

Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.

Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted

Another little house for pigs,

And this one had been built of TWIGS!

‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’

‘No, no, by the hairs of my chinny-chin-chin!’ ‘

Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!’

The Wolf said, ‘Okay, here we go!’

He then began to blow and blow.

The little pig began to squeal.

He cried, ‘Oh Wolf, you’ve had one meal!

‘Why can’t we talk and make a deal?’

The Wolf replied, ‘Not on your nelly!’

And soon the pig was in his belly.

‘Two juicy little pigs!’ Wolf cried,

‘But still I am not satisfied!

‘I know full well my Tummy’s bulging,

‘But oh, how I adore indulging.’

So creeping quietly as a mouse,

The Wolf approached another house,

A house which also had inside

A little piggy trying to hide.

But this one, Piggy Number Three,

Was bright and brainy as could be.

No straw for him, no twigs or sticks.

This pig had built his house of BRICKS.

‘You’ll not get me!’ the Piggy cried.

‘I’ll blow you down!’ the Wolf replied.

‘You’ll need,’ Pig said, ‘a lot of puff,

‘And I don’t think you’ve got enough.’

Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.

The house stayed up as good as new.

‘If I can’t blow it down,’ Wolf said,

‘I’ll have to blow it up instead.

‘I’ll come back in the dead of night

‘And blow it up with dynamite!’

Pig cried, ‘You brute! I might have known!’

Then, picking up the telephone,

He dialled as quickly as he could

The number of Red Riding Hood.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Who’s speaking? Who?

‘Oh, hello Piggy, how d’you do?’

Pig cried, ‘I need your help, Miss Hood!

‘Oh help me, please! D’you think you could?’

‘I’ll try, of course,’ Miss Hood replied.

‘What’s on your mind?’... ‘A Wolf!’ Pig cried.

‘I know you’ve dealt with wolves before,

‘And now I’ve got one at my door!’

‘My darling Pig,’ she said, ‘my sweet,

‘That’s something really up my street.

‘I’ve just begun to wash my hair.

‘But when it’s dry, I’ll be right there.’

A short while later, through the wood,

Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.

The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze

And yellowish, like mayonnaise.

His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,

And spit was dripping from his jaw.

Once more the maiden’s eyelid flickers.

She draws the pistol from her knickers.

Once more, she hits the vital spot,

And kills him with a single shot.

Pig, peeping through the window, stood

And yelled, ‘Well done, Miss Riding Hood!’

Ah, Piglet, you must never trust

Young ladies from the upper crust.

For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,

Not only has two wolfskin coats,

But when she goes from place to place,

She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELLING CASE.

Dirty Beasts

The PIG

In England once there lived a big

And wonderfully clever pig.

To everybody it was plain

That Piggy had a massive brain.

He worked out sums inside his head,

There was no book he hadn’t read,

He knew what made an airplane fly,

He knew how engines worked and why.

He knew all this, but in the end

One question drove him round the bend:

He simply couldn’t puzzle out

What LIFE was really all about.

What was the reason for this birth?

Why was he placed upon this earth?

His giant brain went round and round.

Alas, no answer could be found,

Till suddenly one wondrous night,

All in a flash, he saw the light.

He jumped up like a ballet dancer

And yelled, “By gum, I’ve got the answer!”

“They want my bacon slice by slice

“To sell at a tremendous price!

“They want my tender juicy chops

“To put in all the butchers’ shops!

“They want my pork to make a roast

“And that’s the part’ll cost the most!

“They want my sausages in strings!

“They even want my chitterlings!

“The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!

“That is the reason for my life!”

Such thoughts as these are not designed

To give a pig great peace of mind.

Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,

A pail of pigswill in his hand,

And Piggy with a mighty roar,

Bashes the farmer to the floor...

Now comes the rather grizzly bit

So let’s not make too much of it,

Except that you must understand

That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,

He ate him up from head to toe,

Chewing the pieces nice and slow.

It took an hour to reach the feet,

Because there was so much to eat,

And when he’d finished, Pig, of course,

Felt absolutely no remorse.

Slowly he scratched his brainy head

And with a little smile, he said,

“I had a fairly powerful hunch

“That he might have me for his lunch.

“And so, because I feared the worst,

“I thought I’d better eat him first.”

THE CROCODILE

"No animal is half as vile
As Crocky–Wock, the crocodile.
On Saturdays he likes to crunch
Six juicy children for his lunch
And he especially enjoys
Just three of each, three girls, three boys.
He smears the boys (to make them hot)
With mustard from the mustard pot.
But mustard doesn't go with girls,
It tastes all wrong with plaits and curls.
With them, what goes extremely well
Is butterscotch and caramel.
It's such a super marvelous treat
When boys are hot and girls are sweet.
At least that's Crocky's point of view
He ought to know. He's had a few.
That's all for now. It's time for bed.
Lie down and rest your sleepy head.
Ssh. Listen. What is that I hear,
Galumphing softly up the stair?

Go lock the door and fetch my gun!
Go on child, hurry! Quickly run!
No stop! Stand back! He's coming in!
Oh, look, that greasy greenish skin!
The shining teeth, the greedy smile!
It's Crocky–Wock, the Crocodile!"

The LION

The lion just adores to eat

A lot of red and tender meat,

And if you ask the lion what

Is much the tenderest of the lot,

He will not say a roast of lamb

Or curried beef or devilled ham

Or crispy pork or corned beef hash

Or sausages or mutton mash.

Then could it be a big plump hen?

He answers no. What is it, then?

Oh, lion dear, could I not make

You happy with a lovely steak?

Could I entice you from your lair

With rabbit-pie or roasted hare?

The lion smiled and shook his head.

He came up very close and said,

“The meat I am about to chew

Is neither steak nor chops. IT’S YOU.”

The SCORPION

You ought to thank your lucky star

That here in England where you are

You’ll never find (or so it’s said)

A scorpion inside your bed.

The scorpion’s name is Stingaling,

A most repulsive ugly thing,

And I would never recommend

That you should treat him like a friend.

His scaly skin is black as black

With armour-plate upon his back.

Observe his scowling murderous face,

His wicked eyes, his lack of grace,

Note well his long and crinkly tail.

And when it starts to swish and flail,

Oh gosh! Watch out! Jump back, I say,

And run till you’re a mile away.

The moment that his tail goes swish

He has but one determined wish,

He wants to make a sudden jump

And sting you hard upon your rump.

“What is the matter, darling child?

“Why do you look so tense and wild?”

“Oh mummy, underneath the sheet

“There’s something moving on my feet,

“Some horrid creepy crawly thing,

“D’you think it could be Stingaling?”

“What nonsense child! You’re teasing me.”

“I’m not, I’m not! It’s reached my knee!

“It’s going...going up my thigh!

“Oh mummy, catch it quickly! Try!

“It’s on...it’s on my bottom now!

“It’s...Ow! Ow-ow! Ow-ow! OW-OW!”

The ANT-EATER

Some wealthy folks from U.S.A.,

Who lived near San Francisco Bay,

Possessed an only child called Roy,

A plump and unattractive boy –

Half-baked, half-witted and half-boiled,

But worst of all, most dreadfully spoiled.

Whatever Roy desired each day,

His father bought him right away –

Toy motor-cars, electric trains,

The latest model aeroplanes,

A colour television-set,

A saxophone, a clarinet,

Expensive teddy-bears that talked,

And animals that walked and squawked.

That house contained sufficient toys

To thrill a half a million boys.

(As well as this, young Roy would choose,

Two pairs a week of brand-new shoes.)

And now he stood there shouting, “What

“On earth is there I haven’t got?

“How hard to think of something new!

“The choices are extremely few!”

Then added, as he scratched his ear,

“Hold it! I’ve got a good idea!

“I think the next thing I must get

“Should be a most peculiar pet –

“The kind that no one else has got –

“A giant ANT-EATER! Why not?”

As soon as father heard the news,

He quickly wrote to all the zoos,

“Dear Sirs,” he said, “My dear keepers,

“Do any of you have ant-eaters?”

They answered by return of mail.

“Our ant-eaters are not for sale.”

Undaunted, Roy’s fond parent hurled

More messages across the world.

He said, “I’ll pay you through the nose

“If you can get me one of those.”

At last he found an Indian gent

(He lived near Delhi, in a tent),

Who said that he would sacrifice

His pet for an enormous price

(The price demanded, if you please,

Was fifty thousand gold rupees).

The ant-eater arrived half-dead.

It looked at Roy and softly said,

“I’m famished. Do you think you could

“Please give me just a little food?

“A crust of bread, a bit of meat?

“I haven’t had a thing to eat

“In all the time I was at sea,

“For nobody looked after me.”

Roy shouted, “No! No bread or meat!

“Go find some ants! They’re what you eat!”

The starving creature crawled away.

It searched the garden night and day,

It hunted every inch of ground,

But not a single ant it found.

“Please give me food!” the creature cried.

“Go find an ant!” the boy replied.

By chance, upon that every day,

Roy’s father’s sister came to stay –

A foul old hag of eighty-three

Whose name, it seems, was Dorothy.

She said to Roy, “Come let us sit

“Out in the sun and talk a bit.”

Roy said, “I don’t believe you’ve met

“My new and most unusual pet?”

He pointed down among the stones

Where something lay, all skin and bones.

“Ant-eater!” he yelled. “Don’t lie there yawning!

“This is my ant! Come say good morning!”

(Some people in the U.S.A.

Have trouble with the words they say.

However hard they try, they can’t

Pronounce a simple word like AUNT.

Instead of AUNT, they call it ANT,

Instead of CAN’T, they call it KANT.)

Roy yelled, “Come here, you so-and-so!

“My ant would like to say hello!”

Slowly, the creature raised its head.

“D’you mean that that’s an ant?” it said.

“Of course!” cried Roy. “Ant Dorothy!”

“This ant is over eighty-three.”

The creature smiled. Its tummy rumbled.

It licked its starving lips and mumbled,

“A giant ant! By gosh, a winner!

“At last I’ll get a decent dinner!

“No matter if it’s eighty-three.

“If that’s an ant, then it’s for me!”

Then, taking very careful aim,

It pounced upon the startled dame.

It grabbed her firmly by the hair

And ate her right up then and there,

Murmuring as it chewed the feet,

“The largest ant I’ll ever eat.”

Meanwhile, our hero Roy had sped

In terror to the potting shed,

And tried to make himself obscure

Behind a pile of horse-manure.

But ant-eater came sneaking in

(Already it was much less thin)

And said to Roy, “You little squirt,

“I think I’ll have you for dessert.”

The PORCUPINE

Each Saturday I shout "Hooray!"
For that's my pocket money day,
(Although it's clearly understood
I only get it when I'm good.)
This week my parents had been told
That I had been as good as gold,
So after breakfast 50p
My generous father gave to me.
Like lightning down the road I ran
Until I reached the sweet-shop man,
And bought the chocolates of my dreams,
A great big bag of raspberry creams.

There is a secret place I know
Where I quite often like to go,
Beyond the wood, behind some rocks,
A super place for guzzling chocs.
When I arrived, I quickly found
A comfy-looking little mound.
Quite clean and round and earthy-brown
Just, right, I thought, for sitting down.
Here I will sit all morning long
And eat until my chocs are gone.
I sat. I screamed. I jumped a foot!
Would you believe that I had put
That tender little rump of mine
Upon a giant porcupine?

My backside seemed to catch on fire!
A hundred red-hot bits of wire
A hundred prickles sticking in
And puncturing my precious skin!
I ran for home. I shouted, "Mum!
”Behold the prickles in my bum!"
My mum, who always keeps her head,
Bent down to look and then she said,
"I personally am not about
”To try to pull those prickles out.
”I think a job like this requires
”The services of Mr. Myers."

I shouted, "Not the dentist! No!
”Oh mum, why don't you have a go?"
I begged her twice. I begged her thrice.
But grown-ups never take advice.
She said, "A dentist's very strong.
”He pulls things out the whole day long."
She drove me quickly into town.
And then they turned me upside down
Upon the awful dentist's chair,
While two strong nurses held me there.
Enter the dreaded Mr. Myers
Waving a massive pair of pliers.

"This is", he cried, with obvious glee,
"A new experience for me.
”Quite honestly I can't pretend
”I've ever pulled things from this end."
He started pulling one by one
And yelling, "My, oh my, what fun!"
I shouted "Help!" I shouted "Ow!"
He said, "It's nearly over now.
”For heaven's sake don't squirm about!
”Here goes! The last one's coming out!"
The dentist pulled, and out it came,
And then I heard the man exclaim.
"Let us now talk about the fees,
That will be 50 guineas, please."

My mother is a gutsy bird
And never one to mince a word.
She cried, "By gosh, that's jolly steep!"
He answered, "No, it's very cheap.
”My dear woman, can't you see
”That if it hadn't been for me
”This child could go another year
”With prickles sticking in her rear?"
So that was that. Oh, what a day!
And what a fuss! But by the way,
I think I know why porcupines
Surround themselves with prickly spines.
It is to stop some silly clown
From squashing them by sitting down.
Don't copy me. Don't be a twit.
Make sure you LOOK before you SIT.

The COW

Please listen while I tell you now

About a most fantastic cow.

Miss Milky Daisy was her name,

And when, aged seven months, she came

To live with us, she did her best

To look the same as all the rest.

But Daisy, as we all could see

Had some kind of deformity,

A funny sort of bumpy lump

On either side, above the rump

Now, not so very long ago,

These bumpy lumps began to grow,

And three or maybe four month later,

(I stood there, an enthralled spectator)

These bumpy lumps burst wide apart

And out there came (I cross my heart)

Of all the wondrous marvellous things,

A pair of gold and silver wings!

A cow with wings! A flying cow!

I’d never seen one up to now.

“Oh Daisy dear, can this be true?”

She flapped her wings and up she flew!

Most gracefully she climbed up high,

She fairly whizzed across the sky.

You should have seen her dive and swoop!

She even did a loop the loop!

Of course, almost immediately

Her picture was on live T.V.,

And millions came each day to stare

At Milky Daisy in the air.

They shouted “Jeepers Creepers! Wow!

“It really is a flying cow!”

They laughed and clapped and cheered and waved,

And all of them were well-behaved

Except for one quite horrid man

Who’d travelled from Afghanistan.

This fellow, standing in the crowd,

Raised up his voice and yelled aloud,

“That silly cow! Hey, listen Daisy!”

“I think you’re absolutely crazy!”

Unfortunately Daisy heard

Quite clearly every single word.

“By gosh,” she cried, “what awful cheek!

“Who is this silly foreign freak?”

She dived, and using all her power

She got to sixty miles an hour.

“Bombs gone!” she cried. “Take that!” she said,

And dropped a cowpat on his head.

The Toad and the Snail

I really am most awfully fond

Of playing in the lily-pond.

I take off shoes and socks and coat

And paddle with my little boat.

Now yesterday, quite suddenly,

A giant toad came up to me.

This toad was easily as big

As any fair-sized fattish pig.

He smiled and said “How do you do?

“Hello! Good morning! How are you?”

(His face somehow reminded me

Of mummy’s sister Emily.)

The toad said, “Don’t you think I’m fine?

“Admire these lovely legs of mine,

“And I am sure you’ve never seen

“A toad so gloriously green!”

I said, “So far as I can see,

“You look just like Aunt Emily.”

He said, “I’ll bet Aunt Emily

“Can’t jump one half as high as me.

“Hop on my back, young friend,” he cried,

“I’ll take you for a marvelous ride.”

As I got on, I thought, oh blimey,

Oh, deary me. How wet and slimy!

“Sit further back,” he said. “That’s right.

“I’m going to jump, so hold on tight.”

He jumped! Oh, how he jumped! By gum,

I thought my final hour had come!

My wretched eardrums popped and fizzed.

My eyeballs watered. Up we whizzed.

I clung on tight. I shouted, “How

“Much further are we going now?”

Toad said, his face all wreathed in smiles,

“With every jump, it’s fifty miles!”

Quite literally, we jumped all over,

From Scotland to The Cliffs of Dover!

Above the Cliffs, we stopped for tea,

And Toad said, gazing at the see,

“What do you say we take a chance,

“And jump from England into France?”

I said, “Oh dear, d’you think we oughta?

“I’d hate to finish in the water.”

But toads, you’ll find, don’t give a wink

For what we little children think.

He didn’t bother to reply.

He jumped! You should have seen us fly!

We simply soared across the see,

The marvelous Mister Toad and me.

Then down we came, and down and down,

And landed in a funny town.

We landed hard, in fact we bounced.

“We’re there! It’s France!” the Toad announced.

He said, “You must admit it’s grand

“To jump into a foreign land.

“No boats, no bicycles, no trains,

“No cars, no noisy aeroplanes.”

Just then, we heard a fearful shout,

“Oh, heavens above!” the Toad cried out.

I turned and saw a frightening sight –

On every side, to left, to right,

People were running down the road,

Running at me and Mister Toad,

And every person, man and wife

Was brandishing a carving-knife.

It didn’t take me very long

To figure there was something wrong.

And yet, how could a small boy know,

For nobody had told me so,

That Frenchmen aren’t like you or me,

They do things very differently

They won’t say “yards”, they call them “metres”,

And they’re the most peculiar eaters:

A Frenchman frequently regales

Himself with half-a-dozen SNAILS!

The greedy ones will gulp a score

Of these foul brutes and ask for more.

(In many of the best hotels

The people also eat the shells.)

Imagine that! My stomach turns!

One might as well eat slugs or worms!

But wait. Read on a little bit.

You haven’t heard the half of it.

These French go even more agog

If someone offers them a FROG!

(You’d better fetch a basin quick

In case you’re going to be sick.)

The bits of frog they like to eat

Are thighs and calves and toes and feet.

The French will gobble loads and loads

Of legs they chop off frogs and toads.

They think it’s absolutely ripping

To guzzle frogs-legs fried in dripping.

That’s why the whole town and their wives

Were rushing us with carving-knoves.

They screamed in French, “Well I’ll be blowed!

“What legs there are upon that toad!

“Chop them! Skin them! Cook them! Fry them!

“All of us are going to try them!”

“Toad!” I cried. “I’m not a funk,

“But ought we not to do a bunk?

“These rascals haven’t come to greet you.

“All they want to do is eat you!”

Toad turned his head and looked at me,

And said, as cool as cool could be,

“Calm down and listen carefully please,

“I often come to France to tease

“These crazy French who long to eat

“My lovely tender froggy meat.

“I am a MAGIC TOAD!” he cried.

“And I don’t ever have to hide!

“Stay where you are! Don’t move!” he said,

And pressed a button on his head.

At once, there came a blinding flash,

And then the most almighty crash,

And sparks were bursting all around,

And smoke was rising from the ground…

When all the smoke had cleared away

The Frenchmen with their knives cried, “Hey!

“Where is the toad? Where has he gone?”

You see, I now was sitting on

A wonderfully ENORMOUS SNAIL!

His shell was smooth and brown and pale,

And I was so high off the ground

That I could see for miles around.

The Snail said, “Hello! Greetings! Hail!

“I was a Toad. Now I’m a Snail.

“I had to change the way I looked

“To save myself from being cooked.”

“Oh Snail,” I said, “I’m not sure.

“I think they’re starting up once more.”

The French were shouting, “What a snail!

“Oh, what a monster! What a whale!

“He makes the toad look titchy small!

“There’s lovely snail-meat for us all!

“We’ll bake the creature in his shell

“And ring aloud the dinner-bell!

“Get garlic, parsley, butter, spices!

“We’ll cut him into fifty slices!

“Come sharpen up your carving-knives!

“This is the banquet of our lives!”

I murmured through my quivering lips,

“O Snail, I think we’ve had our chips.”

The Snail replied, “I disagree.

“Those greedy French, they’ll not eat me.”

But on they came. They screamed, “Yahoo!

Surround the brute and run him through!”

Good gracious, I could almost feel

The pointed blades, the shining steel!

But Snail was cool as cool could be.

He turned his head and winked at me,

And murmured, “Au revoir, farewell,”

And pulled a lever on his shell.

I looked around. The Snail had gone!

And now who was I sitting on?...

Oh what relief! What joy! Because

At last I’d found a friend. It was

The gorgeous, glamorous, absurd,

Enchanting ROLY-POLY BIRD!

He turned and whispered in my ear,

“Well, fancy seeing you, my dear!

The up he went in glorious flight.

I clutched his neck and hung on tight.

We fairly raced across the sky,

The Roly-Poly Bird and I,

And landed safely just beyond

The fringes of the lily-pond.

When I got home I never told

A solitary single soul

What I had done or where I’d been

Or any of the things I’d seen.

I did not say I rode

Upon a giant jumping toad,

‘Cause if I had, I knew that they

Would not believe me anyway.

But you and I know well it’s true.

We know I jumped, we know I flew.

We’re sure it all took place, although

Not one of us will ever know,

We’ll never, never understand

Why children go to Wonderland.

The TUMMY BEAST

One afternoon I said to mummy,
"Who is this person in my tummy?
"He must be small and very thin
"Or how could he have gotten in?"

My mother said from where she sat,
"It isn't nice to talk like that."

"It's true!" I cried. "I swear it, mummy!
"There is a person in my tummy!
"He talks to me at night in bed,
"He's always asking to be fed,
"Throughout the day, he screams at me,
"Demanding sugar buns for tea.
"He tells me it is not a sin
"To go and raid the biscuit tin.
"I know quite well it's awfully wrong
"To guzzle food the whole day long,
"But really I can't help it, mummy,
"Not with this person in my tummy."

"You horrid child!" my mother cried.
"Admit it right away, you've lied!
"You're simply trying to produce
"A silly asinine excuse!
"You are the greedy guzzling brat!
"And that is why you're always fat!"

I tried once more, "Believe me, mummy,
"There is a person in my tummy."

"I've had enough!" my mother said,
"You'd better go at once to bed!"

Just then, a nicely timed event
Delivered me from punishment.
Deep in my tummy something stirred,
And then an awful noise was heard,
A snorting grumbling grunting sound
That made my tummy jump around.
My darling mother nearly died,
"My goodness, what was that?" she cried.

At once, the tummy voice came through,
It shouted, "Hey there! Listen you!
"I'm getting hungry! I want eats!
"I want lots of chocs and sweets!
"Get me half a pound of nuts!
"Look snappy or I'll twist your guts!"

"That's him!" I cried. "He's in my tummy!
"So now do you believe me mummy?"
But mummy answered nothing more,
For she had fainted on the floor.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-23