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    The Laughing Willow
    The Laughing Willow
    The Laughing Willow
    Ebook94 pages35 minutes

    The Laughing Willow

    By Oliver Herford

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    About this ebook

    Oliver Herford, a writer, artist, and illustrator, was born in Sheffield, England on December 2, 1860 (not 1863, as is widely stated) to Rev. Brooke Herford and Hannah Hankinson Herford. Oliver's father, Brooke, was a Unitarian minister who moved the family to Chicago in 1876 and to Boston in 1882. Oliver attended Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio from 1877 to 1879. Later he studied art at the Slade School in London and the Académie Julien in Paris. Afterward, he moved to New York, where he lived until his death. He has been called "The American Oscar Wilde".[citation needed][1] As a frequent contributor to The Mentor, Life, and Ladies' Home Journal, he sometimes signed his artwork as "O Herford". In 1906 he wrote and illustrated the Little Book of Bores. He also wrote short poems like "The Chimpanzee" and "The Hen", as well as writing and illustrating "The Rubaiyat of a Persian Kitten" (1904) and "Excuse It Please" (1930). His sister Beatrice Herford was also a humorist (font: Wikipedia)
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStudium Legis
    Release dateFeb 5, 2018
    ISBN9788827564653
    The Laughing Willow

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      Book preview

      The Laughing Willow - Oliver Herford

      laugh.

      EPITAPHS

      Willy Nilly

      Here lies Willy’s mortal clay

      In its Mother Earth’s caresses.

      Willy’s soul has flown away—

      Where it is you have two guesses.

      Here lies Bill

      Here lies Bill, the son of Fred.

      He lied alive; he now lies dead.

      Tears, Idle Tears

      Oh, stranger, dry the starting tear!

      Kaiser Bill is buried here.

      Pax

      ’Neath this stone lies Kaiser Bill.

      He sought for peace—he seeks it still.

      Requiescat

      Here Wilhelm sleeps. For Mercy’s sake,

      Tread softly, friend, lest he should wake!

      Ashes to Ashes

      Swallow him, O Earth, for he,

      Did his best to swallow thee.

      THE TRUTH ABOUT RUSSIA

      THE WEDDING FEAST

      This is a Russian Wedding Feast;

      Counting the Groom, there are at least

      A hundred sitting down to dine,

      Or let us call it ninety-nine:

      For more than that there is no room,

      And no one ever counts the Groom!

      A MUJIK

      The Mujik wears a costume weird

      Consisting of a fuzzy beard,

      A sheep-skin blouse (the wool inside)

      And breeks astonishingly wide,

      Made from the fur of North sea Whales,

      And Yak-hide boots with big brass nails.

      THE COSSACK

      The Cossack is so much at home

      Upon his horse, that though he roam

      From Vladivostok to Odessa,

      His wife has only to address a

      Letter to Ivan care his Horse

      To catch her Spouse, unless of course,

      As sometimes happens, Ivan may

      Have swapped addresses on the way.

      THE THREE S’S

      Without a doubt the Samovar

      The Steppes and Russian Sables are

      Of all things Russian the best known;

      So in this picture I have shown

      A Sable sitting on a flight

      Of Russian Steppes, before a bright

      New Samovar, calm as can be,

      Brewing a cup of Russian Tea.

      THE AIR RAID

      I

      Come into the cellar, Maud.

      Get a move on! Goodness gracious,

      There is nothing to applaud

      In bravado ostentatious!

      Still Maud lingered, all unheeding,

      As the Siren sounded twice;

      Above the din her voice came pleading,

      "Are you sure there’s no mice?"

      II

      Above the pandemonium

      Of Siren shrill and warning Drum

      And Aircraft Gun is heard the roar

      Of little Freddy, ætat four;

      The cellar dark and dank and dim

      No fascination has for him,

      The little darling wants to be

      Upstairs upon the roof and see

      The fireworks! If you ask me—

      Aunt Kate was overheard to say,

      I’d let the dear child have his way!

      III

      A hidden Crime, however slight,

      Is sure some day to see the light;

      Oh, why did Auntie come to stay

      With us upon an Air-raid day!

      Why did we never think to tell her

      That there were Lizards in the cellar

      Or Spiders or an Open Drain!

      How shall we ever now explain

      That Antique Vase we said was lost,

      That Nile green horror, gold embossed,

      Her Wedding Present—there it lay

      Before her eyes, as plain as day!

      We almost wished a bomb would fall

      Upon the house and end it all!

      IV

      Who

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