FROM MY WINDOW.

Shannon News, 1 September 1922, Page 4

FROM MY WINDOW.

No. XXIV. “TEN LITTLE NIGGER BOYS.”

(By “ETERA”)

“A little nonsense now and then, Is relished by the wisest men.”

I lain would introduce to you my old-time trusty friends, ten little nigger boys. Tlieir % smiles are just as wide as in my nursery rhyme days, and their clothes still hold their gay colouring oi undiluted red, blue and yellow. Perhaps you, too, 'have been the proud possessor ol an oblong untearable book containing pictures and descriptions of their varied careers ? In that case you need no introduction,

but will be able to groan in anticipation of each tragedy as it commences to unfold itself; and if you can learn a better lesson from their lapses from grace than I can teach—well, 1 should like do have the opportunity oi learning it also. “Ten little nigger boys went out to

dine, One'choked his little self, then there were nine.”

What a windfall for the restaurantbeeper to have ten customers at once! I'hat is, unless they resembled a small friend of my acquaintance who stayed with his older brother at a hotel one school holiday-time. This boy said, “When I found they were charging me full tariff, I had an extra helping

every day for breakfast 1” Perhaps they went to dine at a private house, where the hostess’s purse would need to be as capacious as her heart; but J incline rather to the restaurant theory, because I think that it was while four or five of the younger members of the party there were having a competition

for speed and capacity that the little accident occurred. It is to he hoped that the waiter was not so unfortunate in serving them as the one in a New Zealand hotel some time ago. In his zeal to servo the soup promptly lit tripped and precipitated the plate's contents all over the small table “Anywhere there will do,” murmured

the youthful diner, and the waiter looked as if he did not know whether to laugh or cry. Soup was “off” that time. History has not the name for being a truthful lady, so perhaps it is as well that we are left to imagine what It- was that choked that little

nigger. Think of the daintiest comestibles you have ever tasted. Have you thought? Well, he had lour helpings of those! My belief is that he ate too many “angels on horseback,” which sound indigestible, to say the least; or perhaps the bill of fare was written in French, and he ordered two helpings of roissoN, which sounds enough to choke anybody.. “Nine little nigger boys sat up very late,

One overslept himself, then there were eight.” „

Tnis counts No. 9 “out” in the gene-

ral scheme of things. King Solomon does not beat about the bush in his indictment of this offence. He says, “The sluggard ... is as vinegar to the teeth, and as smoke to the eyes.” So if you wish to stand well with King Solomon, do not stay too long in “Blanket Bay.”

“Eight little nigger boys, travelling in

Devon, One said he’d stay there, then there were seven.”

History is very vague concerning the ongoings of this No. 8, but I think it is a case of “cherchez la femme.” We need shed no tears because he elects to stay in this delightful part

of England, which Drake has immortalised by deeds, and Charles Kingsley 'by words. But be prepared with a wail of anguish for the plight of the next little man on our list.

“Seven little nigger boys chopping up sticks, One chopped himself in half, then there were six.”

This points to an error of judgment rather than inefficiency, for it would require a nice accuracy to chop one’s self in half—just try and seel No dilly-dallying with decimal points with this fellow; he kept to vulgar fractions. And I can still see the look of shocked surprise pictured on the face of the victim, as if he listened in vain for referee’s whistle calling to him to keep within bounds.

“Six little nigger boys playing‘with a hive, A bumble bee stung one, then there were five.”

A little patient endurance and the blue-bag will soon put matters to rights here, so we need not exercise more than the usual amount of sympathy upon No. 6 nigger, “Five little nigger boys going in for law,

One got in Chancery, then there were four."

I do not know where this Chancery is kept, and do not like to ask, for fear of being ordered, in 7 return for the information, to pay 6/8 plus amusement tax. I picture it as being a room richly decorated in crimson plush with canopied chair containing a be-wigged judge, almost hidden behind piles of contracts and torts (whatever they are), which are constantly being delved into by learned barristers. The walls are decorated with white gloves

and black caps; true bills and no bills; sine dies and sinecures of all descrip-

j lions firmly tied up wtih red tape. ' The judge glares over his spectacles •at you and bids you be seated, you ! see that the only available chair is 1 cushioned at the back with a tome ! marked “Biles on Bills,” and you sudI denly remember that you will just 1 have time to catch the last train home, i You make a wild rush for the door, * never to return. ] I know it is something to avoid; for, 1 like most people, I had a grandfather 1 once who was said to be entitled to ‘ own property in the heart of London’s best business . centre, but who man r aged to get it or himself in Chancery —or to get Chancery into it or himself or something—legal phraseology

is hard to understand. Why, it costs ■ £sooo sometimes to explain the meaning of a little word like “and”! j Well, if it had not been for this Chancery having the last word (and the property) I might now be wearing ermine and having cream meringues every day and indigestion every night. So I strongly advise you not to follow the example of the fifth little nigger boy. 11b is past help.

“Four little nigger hoys going out to j sea, ■ A red herring swallowed one, then

i there were three.” i This is as veracious as most of the fish yarns one hears, but even this lacks absolute truth in two of its state-

ments. Firstly, a herring’s digestive capacity does not take in little boys; and, secondly, there are no red herrings existing in the sea. i But what would you have?

| Do you not know that with every ! fishing license issued during the sea- ! son, a poet’s license is also., inserted 1 to divert the attention of the record- : ing angel? Personally, I think that • No. 4 nigger “caught a crab,” after swallowing a red herring himself; or : perhaps he fell overboard in the effort to swallow some of his companions’ fish stories; for all of the little niggers

in America are not related to George Washington. “Three little nigger boys went to the Zoo, • A big bear hugged one, then there were two. I don’t blame the hear for his friendly action, but a little restraint in his ardour would have caused a happier ending. No. 3 nigger should have remembered that—“lt is better to bear the ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of.” Also, that it is safer to hug a chimera than be hugged by a bear. “Two little nigger boys sitting in the sun, One got, frizzled up, then there* was one.”

This picture in my book showed two chairs, one of Which contained an ordinary boy, the other a limp suit of clothes and empty Doug. Fairbanks’ sombrero. In the sky shone a dazzling yellow sun with a leer on its face, as if it knew a thing or two about the correct scorching of little helpless nigger hoys. My imagination filled those clothes with boy, but being of a retiring disposition he would not “stay ( put”; for directly the page was turned he shrank back within himself and my labour was in vain. “One little nigger boy living all alone, Hie got married, and then there was none.” I fancy I hear a cynic murmur, And the lesson to be learnt from this poem? “Be temperate in all things.”