The Preposterous Performance of an Old Lady of Banbury

Within a little attic a retiring, but erraticOld lady (six-and-eighty, to be frank),Made sauces out of cranberry for all the town of Banbury,Depositing the proceeds in the bank.Her tendency to thriftiness, her scorn of any shiftinessBuilt a bustling business, and in courseOf time her secret yearnings were revealed, and all her earningsShe squandered in the purchase of a horse.

“I am not in a hurry for a waggonette or surrey,”She said. “In fact, I much prefer to ride.”And in spite of all premonishment, to everyone’s astonishment,The gay old lady did so—and astride!Now this was most periculous, but, what was more ridiculous,The horse she bought had pulled a car, and soThe lazy steed to cheer up, she’d a bell upon her stirrup,And rang it twice to make the creature go!

I blush the truth to utter, but it seems a pound of butterAnd thirty eggs she had to sell. Of course,In scorn of ways pedestrian, this fatuous equestrianTo market gaily started on the horse.Becoming too importunate to hasten, the unfortunateOld lady plied her charger with a birch.In view of all her cronies, this stupidest of poniesFell flat before the Presbyterian church!

If it should chance that one set a red Italian sunsetBeside a Beardsley poster, and a plaidLike any canny Highlander’s beside a Fiji Islander’sMost variegated costume, and should addA Turner composition, and with clever intuition,To cap the climax, pile upon them allThe aurora borealis, then veracity, not malice,Might claim a close resemblance to her fall.

At sight of her disaster, with arnica and plasterThe neighbors ran up eagerly to aid.They cried: “Don’t do that offen, ma’am, or you will need a coffin, ma’am,You’ve hurt your solar plexus, we’re afraid.We hope your martyrdom’ll let you notice what an omeletteYou’ve made in half a jiffy. It is great!”She only clutched her bonnet (she had fallen flat upon it),And answered: “Will you tell me if it’s straight?”

The moral’s rather curious: for often the penuriousAre apt to think old horses of accountIf you would ride, then seek fine examples of the equine,And don’t look on a molehill as a mount.