A nifty young flapper named Jane
While walking was caught in the rain.
She ran–almost flew,
Her complexion did too,
And she reached home exceedingly plain.
There was an old man in a hearse,
Who murmured, “This might have been worse;
Of course the expense
Is simply immense,
But it doesn’t come out of my purse.”
“There’s a train at 4:04,” said Miss Jenny.
“Four tickets I’ll take; have you any?”
Said the man at the door,
“Not four for 4:04,
For four for 4:04 is too many.”
There was a young lady of Kent,
Whose nose was most awfully bent.
She followed her nose
One day, I suppose —
And no one knows which way she went.
There was a young lady of Lynn,
Who was so excessively thin,
That when she assayed
To drink lemonade
She slipped through the straw and fell in.
There was a young lady named May,
Who read a love story each day.
“It’s funny,” she said,
When at least she was wed;
“I didn’t think life was this way.”
A man and his lady-love, Min,
Skated out where the ice was quite thin,
Had a quarrel, no doubt,
For I hear they fell out;
What a blessing they didn’t fall in!
There was a young lady of Munich,
Whose appetite simply was unich,
“There’s nothing like a food,”
She contentedly cooed,
As she let out three tucks in her tunic.
There was an old man of Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket;
But his daughter, named Nan
Ran away with a man —
And as far as the bucket, Nantucket.
There was a young lady from Niger,
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger.
They came back from the ride
With the lady inside,
And the smile on the face of the tiger.
There once was a guy named Othello,
A dark, disagreeable fellow;
After croaking his wife,
Then he took his own life —
That bird wasn’t black, he was yellow!
There was a young lady named Perkins,
Who just simply doted on gherkins.
In spite of advice,
She ate so much spice,
That she pickled her internal workins’.
As a beauty I am not a star,
There are others more handsome by far;
But my face — I don’t mind it,
For I am behind it;
It’s the people in front that I jar.
To compose a sonata today,
Don’t proceed in the old-fashioned way:
With your toes on the keys,
Bang the floor with your knees:
“Oh how modern!” the critics will say.
Here lies a young salesman named Phipps,
Who married on one of his trips,
A widow named Block,
Then died of the shock,
When he saw there were six little chips.
I’d rather have Fingers than Toes;
I’d rather have Ears than a Nose;
And as for my Hair,
I’m glad it’s all there:
I’ll be awfully said, when it goes.
There was a young fellow named Weir,
Who hadn’t an atom of fear.
He indulged a desire
To touch a live wire.
(Most any last line will do here!)
A cheerful old bear at the Zoo
Could always find something to do.
When it bored him, you know,
To walk to and fro,
He reversed it and walked fro and to.
The bottle of perfume that Willie sent
Was highly displeasing to Millicent;
Her thanks were so cold
They quarreled, I’m told,
Through that silly scent Willie sent Millicent.
There was a young person called Smarty,
Who sent out his cards for a party;
So exclusive and few
Were the friends that he knew
That no one was present but Smarty.