Saturday, September 23, 2006
11:55 PM
Here's a ryhme from a book published the year I was born (=
The Emperor's New Clothes
The Royal Tailor, Mister Ho,
Had premises on Savile Row,
And thence the King would make his way
At least a dozen times a day.
His passion was for gorgeous suits
And sumptuous cloaks and fur-lined boots
And brilliant waistcoats lined in red,
Hand-sewn with gold and silver thread.
Within the Palace things were grand,
With valets everywhere on hand
To hang the clothes and clean and press
And help the crazy king to dress.
But clothes are very dangerous things,
Especially for wealthy kings.
This King had gone to pot so fast,
His clothes came first, his people last.
One valet who was seen to leave
A spot of gravy on a sleeve
Was hung from rafters by his hair
And left forever dangling there.
Another who had failed to note
A fleck of dust upon a coat
Was ordered to be boiled alive,
A fate not easy to survive.
And one who left a pinch of snuff
Upon a pale-blue velvet cuff
Was minced inside a large machine
And reappeared as margerine.
Oh, what a beastly horrid King!
The people longed to do him in!
And so a dozen brainy men
Met secretly inside a den
To formulate a subtle plot
To polish off this royal clot.
Up spake the very brainiest man
Who cried, "I've got a wizard plan.
Please come with me. We all must go
To see the royal tailer, Ho.
We'll tell him very strong and true
Exactly what he's got to do."
So thus the secret plans were laid
And all arrangements quickly made.
T'was winter-time with lots of snow
And every day the King would go
To ski a bit before he dined
In ski-suits specially designed.
But even on these trips he'd stop
To go into the tailor's shop.
"O Majesty!" cried Mister Ho,
"I cannot wait to let you know
That I've contrived at last to get
From secret weavers in Tibet
A cloth so magical and fine,
So unbelievably divine,
You've never seen its like before
And never will do any more!"
The king yelled out, "I'll buy the lot!
I'll purchase every yard you've got!"
The tailor smiled and bowed his head.
"O honoured sire," he softly said,
"This marvellous magic cloth has got
Amazing ways to keep you hot,
And even when it's icy cold
You still feel warm as molten gold.
However hard the north wind blows
You still won't need your underclothes."
The King said, "If it's all that warm,
I'll have a ski-ing uniform!
I want ski-trousers and a jacket!
I don't care if it costs a packet!
Produce the cloth. I want to see
This marvellous stuff you're selling me."
The tailor, feigning great surprise,
Said, "Sire its here before your eyes."
The King said, "Where? Just tell me where."
"It's in my hands, o King, right here!"
The King yelled, tearing at his hair,
"Don't be an ass! There's nothing there!"
The tailor cried, "Hold on, I pray!
There's something I forgot to say!
This cloth's invisible to fools
And nincompoops and other ghouls.
For brainless men who're round the twist
This cloth does simply not exist!
But seeing how you're wise and bright,
I'm sure it glistens in your sight."
Now right on cue, exactly then,
In burst the dozen brainy men.
They shouted, "Oh, what lovely stuff!
We want some too! D'you have enough?"
Extremely calmly, the tailor stands,
With nothing in his empty hands,
And says, "No, no! this gorgeous thing
Is only for my lord, the King."
The King, not wanting to admit
To being a proper royal twit
Cried out, "Oh, isn't it divine!
I want it all! It's mine! It's mine!
I want a ski-ing outfit most
So I can keep as warm as toast!"
The brainy men all cried, "Egad!
Oh, Majesty, you lucky lad!
You'll feel so cosy in the snow
With temps at zero and below!"
Next day the tailor came to fit
The costume on the royal twit.
The brainy men all went along
To see that nothing should go wrong.
The tailor said, "Strip naked, sire.
This suit's so warm you won't require
Your underclothes or pants or vest
Or even hair upon your chest."
And now the clever Mister Ho
Put on the most terrific show
Of dressing up the naked King
In nothing - not a single thing.
"That's right sir, slip your arm in there,
And now I'll zip you up right here.
Do you feel comfy? Does it fit?
Or should I take this in a bit?"
Now during this absurd charade,
And while the King was off his guard,
The brainy men, so shrewd and sly,
Had turned the central heating high.
The King, although completely bare,
With not a stitch of underwear,
Began to sweat and mop his brow,
And cried, "I do believe you now!
I feel as though I'm going to roast!
This suit will keep we warm as toast!"
The Qeen, just then, came strolling through
With ladies of her retinue.
They stopped. They gasped. There stood the King
As naked as a piece of string,
As naked as a popinjay,
With not a fig-leaf in the way.
He shouted, striking up a pose,
"Behold my marvellous ski-ing clothes!
These clothes will keep me toasty-warm
In hail or sleet or snow or storm!"
Some ladies blushed and hid their eyes
And uttered little plaintive cries.
But some, it seemed, enjoyed the pleasures
Of looking at the royal treasures.
A brazen wrench cried, "Oh my hat!
Hey girls, just take a look at that!"
The Queen, who'd seen it all before,
Made swiftly for the nearest door.
The King cried, "Now I'm off to ski!
You ladies want to come with me?"
They shook their heads, so off he went,
A madman off on pleasure bent.
The crazy King put on his skis,
And now, oblivious to the freeze
He shot outdoors and ski'd away,
Still naked as a popinjay.
And thus this fool, so lewd and squalid,
In half an hour was frozen solid.
And all the nation cried, "Heigh-ho!
The King's deep-frozen in the snow!"
Its hilarious xD He's so darn good haha. How does he -remix- stuff like this and throw everything into such a nonsensical and chidlishly funny ryhme while still maintaining the gist of the story? Oh gosh and this is only one of them (= That took a while to type though, so if I'm feeling kind i'll type another one out. Haha!
Found it while chucking out some old stuff just now. Won it as a prize for some pri 1 thingy. Mm.
