Playful Poems by Unknown
page 199 of 228 (87%)
page 199 of 228 (87%)
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I don't pretend with horns of mine,
Like some in the advertising line, To 'MAGNIFY SOUNDS' on such marvellous scales, That the sounds of a cod seem as big as a whale's; But popular rumours, right or wrong, - Charity sermons, short or long, - Lecture, speech, concerto, or song, All noises and voices, feeble or strong, From the hum of a gnat to the clash of a gong, This tube will deliver distinct and clear; Or, supposing by chance You wish to dance, Why it's putting a Horn-pipe into your ear! Try it--buy it! Buy it--try it! The last New Patent, and nothing comes nigh it, For guiding sounds to their proper tunnel: Only try till the end of June, And if you and the trumpet are out of tune I'll turn it gratis into a funnel!" In short, the pedlar so beset her, - Lord Bacon couldn't have gammoned her better, - With flatteries plump and indirect, And plied his tongue with such effect, - A tongue that could almost have buttered a crumpet: The deaf old woman bought the Trumpet. . . . . . . . . . . |
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