When We Were Very Young (13 page)

The picture of a King of France

(A stoutish man) and, down below,

These words: “King Louis So and So,

Nicknamed ‘The Handsome’ ”! There he sat,

And (think of it!) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything

To read about this famous King,

Nicknamed “The Handsome
.” There he sat,

And certainly the man was fat.

Nicknamed “The Handsome
.” Not a doubt

The man was definitely stout.

Why then, a bear (for all his tub)

Might yet be named “The Handsome Cub”!

“Might yet be named.” Or did he mean

That years ago he “might have been”?

For now he felt a slight misgiving:

“Is Louis So and So still living?

Fashions in beauty have a way

Of altering from day to day.

Is ‘Handsome Louis’ with us yet?

Unfortunately I forget.”

Next morning (nose to window-pane)

The doubt occurred to him again.

One question hammered in his head:

“Is he alive or is he dead?”

Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but

The lattice window, loosely shut,

Swung open. With one startled “Oh!”

Our Teddy disappeared below.

There happened to be passing by

A plump man with a twinkling eye,

Who, seeing Teddy in the street,

Raised him politely to his feet,

And murmured kindly in his ear

Soft words of comfort and of cheer:

“Well, well!” “Allow me!” “Not at all.”

“Tut-tut! A very nasty fall.”

Our Teddy answered not a word;

It’s doubtful if he even heard.

Our bear could only look and look:

The stout man in the picture-book!

That “handsome” King—could this be he,

This man of adiposity?

“Impossible,” he thought. “But still,

No harm in asking. Yes I will!”

“Are you,” he said, “by any chance

His Majesty the King of France?”

The other answered, “I am that,”

Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;

Then said, “Excuse me,” with an air,

“But is it Mr. Edward Bear?”

And Teddy, bending very low,

Replied politely, “Even so!”

They stood beneath the window there,

The King and Mr. Edward Bear,

And, handsome, if a trifle fat,

Talked carelessly of this and that….

Then said His Majesty, “Well, well,

I must get on,” and rang the bell.

“Your bear, I think,” he smiled. “Good-day!”

And turned, and went upon his way.

A bear, however hard he tries,

Grows tubby without exercise.

Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,

Which is not to be wondered at.

But do you think it worries him

To know that he is far from slim?

No, just the other way about—

He’s
proud
of being short and stout.

Bad Sir Brian Botany

Sir Brian had a battleaxe with great big knobs on;

He went among the villagers and blipped them on the head.

On Wednesday and on Saturday, but mostly on the latter day,

He called at all the cottages, and this is what he said:

“I am Sir Brian!”
(ting-ling)

“I am Sir Brian!”
(rat-tat)

“I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion—

Take
that!—
and
that—
and
that
!”

Sir Brian had a pair of boots with great big spurs on,

A fighting pair of which he was particularly fond.

On Tuesday and on Friday, just to make the street look tidy,

He’d collect the passing villagers and kick them in the pond.

“I am Sir Brian!”
(sper-lash)

“I am Sir Brian!”
(sper-losh!)

“I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion—

Is anyone else for a wash?”

Sir Brian woke one morning, and he couldn’t find his battleaxe;

He walked into the village in his second pair of boots.

He had gone a hundred paces, when the street was full of faces,

And the villagers were round him with ironical salutes.

“You are Sir Brian? Indeed!

You are Sir Brian? Dear, dear!

You are Sir Brian, as bold as a lion?

Delighted to meet you here!”

Sir Brian went a journey, and he found a lot of duckweed;

They pulled him out and dried him, and they blipped him on the head.

They took him by the breeches, and they hurled him into ditches,

And they pushed him under waterfalls, and this is what they said: