He was a man whose aim was such
That people called him narrow;
His vision did not widen much
Beyond a little arrow.
This arrow would he draw for hours
In all known shapes and sizes,
If he would demonstrate his powers
We’re sure he’d win some prizes.
Arrows to left and arrows to right
Seemed quite a strong attraction,
He’d fill the board in keen delight
With every known reaction.
With pointed ears and arching brows
He savoured of the devil,
His eyes were small as of a mouse
And lit with radiance evil.
His mouth was wide and quite a gash,
His nostrils fine and cruel,
We dared not make an answer rash,
He only needed fuel
To start him off on gibe and wit,
On pointed barbs and cinical,
He was a fiend torn from the pit
And placed upon a pinnacle.
At other times a garden grub
Had less to learn than he,
We called him then Beelzebub,
A wise choice, you’ll agree?
But ‘twas when an experiment
To do with liquid globes
Dis cause us so much merriment
And flushed his ear-lobes,
That we discovered his per name,
Which ended all our troubles,
He’ll reach posterity and fame
Under the name of Bubbles!
4. 3. 29