'Tis a norrible tale I'm going to tell Of the frightful fortunes which befel A family who late resided In the same suburban street that I did. O it is a norrible tale! 'Twould make a Maëterlinck turn pale, With its frightful blend of the grim and glum, Of fiddle-de-dee, and fi-fo-fum! O they were a decent Philistine lot Till they caught the contagion of "Tommy-Rot," That kind of mental, malarial fever, Which floors the foolish and foils the clever. O it is a norrible tale, &c. This Influenza of the Soul Haunted their house like some gruesome "troll." (The family--which their name was GIBSON-- Knew all about such from the works of IBSEN.) The father first felt the spell unholy, And the man's demeanour grew truly "trolly." He was--in Peckham--a Master Builder, And he "carried on" with a drudge named 'TILDER. The slavey said it was truly thrilling, But struck for another--weekly--shilling. "She was ready to thrill till all was blue, But it _must_ be reckenised in her 'screw!'" His wife declared he was most inhuman, And, for her part, she should turn New Woman! So she grew--to him--an emotional icicle, And mounted knickers, and rode a bicycle. The eldest son, an athletic young fellow, Who had gained his "Blue," took at once to Yellow. "Muscle," he said, in a tone despotic, "Is beastly vulgaw; good form's Neurotic!" The youngest daughter, a blue-eyed fairy-- (Her pies were prime, and her name was MARY--) Now took to cricket, and cigarette-smoking, And manly manners in togs--and joking. The eldest one, of a statelier carriage, Conceived quaint notions about "Group-marriage:" "Since man's a satyr, and brings satiety, The only virtue is--in _variety!_" Another girl took to writing novels On dirt in "dosses," and vice in hovels; Varying the same with Kiplingy verses, With ingenious rhymes to street-slang and curses. The youngest boy, who was "only a nipper," Contributed "Art" to the "Sixpenny Snipper," Which his sisters said was "supremely delicious, As a blend of the infantile and vicious." * * * * * The father died of his drudge and drink, The wife broke her back at a skating rink; And as to the slavey, whose name was 'TILDER, She "thrilled"--on street-preaching and rum--till they killed her. The eldest son read NORDAU and LOMBROSO, Till his brain went shaky--'twas always so-so-- He imagines himself a pot of mustard, Of which egomaniacs are making a custard. The youngest daughter's an "Amazon Queen" At the East-end Halls, and she's loud and lean; The eldest--whose freedom all bonds would sully-- Is tied to--and thrashed by--a pugilist bully.