Meanwhile the Master of Ceremonies was bidden to announce that their distinguished visitor, the Rainbow Cat, had kindly promised to sing a song, and wished to know whether the guests would like to hear it at this moment or later on. This was a very clever idea, for of course people were bound in politeness to say they wished to hear the song immediately. Thereupon the Rainbow Cat took his mandolin and prepared to sing, the whole company being requested to join in the chorus after each verse. They were all delighted with this suggestion, and they all sang, whether they had any voice or not. They enjoyed it so much that they quite forgot that they hadn’t finished the banquet. At least they _almost_ forgot. Here is the song: THE RHYME OF THE GNOME WITH A SCOLDING WIFE Once upon a time, When guinea-pigs had tails, And people talked in rhyme, And rivers ran on rails, There lived a little gnome Who’d such a scolding wife, At last he ran away from home, He couldn’t stand the life. _Chorus._ There lived a little gnome, etc. She scolded all day long From morning until night, And she was never wrong And he was never right. Oh! she could bake and bile, And she could clean and mend, But since she scolded all the while, He left her in the end. _Chorus._ Oh! she could bake and bile, etc. He thought he’d found a way At last to be at peace, But still, to his dismay, His troubles did not cease. He didn’t like his meals, His washing wasn’t right, His socks were always out at heels, His shirts a fearful sight. _Chorus._ He didn’t like his meals, etc. By the end of the third verse the Queen was looking very strained and anxious, and the Rainbow Cat himself was beginning to feel rather nervous. His song had only four verses, and he wasn’t at all sure that he would be asked to sing another. He was afraid that people would remember their unfinished dinner as soon as he stopped. So he began the fourth verse very slowly. But before he had got half-way through, he saw three servants standing between the curtains of the great doorway of the banqueting hall with enormous golden dishes piled up with most magnificent-looking tarts. “My tarts,” he heard the Queen murmur in an excited voice, and then he knew that everything was well. So he finished his song at a great pace, and the last chorus was sung with much enthusiasm, for the other guests had also seen the waiting tarts, and were eager to begin on them. This is the last verse of his song: “Assuredly,” thought he, “Her temper is a curse, And yet it seems to me That this is rather worse.” So home he went once more In philosophic mood, And though his wife still vexed him sore, _He did enjoy his food_. _Chorus._ So home he went once more, etc. The song was very much applauded, and every one then fell upon the tarts with an appetite which the slight delay had pleasantly renewed.