Holiday Play Time
posted by Kitty O'Keefe at 7:42 AM
December 02, 2006
About Me
- Name: Kitty O'Keefe
- Location: United States
A financial professional with 30 years' experience in financial management and education for women.
Previous Posts
- Holiday Nappy Time
- Christmas Carols
- Word Nazis
- PETA SCHMETA
- Only 291 Shopping Days Left!!!
- Santa Baby
- She's a Ho Ho Ho
- I Don't Need No Stinkin Turkey Braces
- Bird Beak OrthoDontic Pliers
- Turkey Braces for Pope's Visit
1 Comments:
Many mice are occasional
poets; that is to say not
that they are occasionally
poetical (though they certainly are, now and then) but that they are moved to write poetry which commemorates certain
occasions.
Heaven knows Christmas
is occasion enough for the
poeticality of the spirit
to arise in the bracing
chill of a fresh snow and
hear the bells peel from
St. Dudgeon's as Vicar and
the senior choirboy hang
and leap on the ropes.
For us tiny folk it is
a wonderful time. With a
concertina, three ranging
fluted pipes from basso-
profundis to soprani, a sort of flat irish drum,
and a good loud fiddle we
have The Morris Mice..with
their ribbands and comic
hats. What music! What
dancing! And the Wassailing
Mice trudging along the
ruts from house to house
first in the town, High
Dudgeon, then the humbler
village below of Low Dudgeon..trimming the lanthorn wicks as they go..
and even down over the
descending hills to the
riverine hamlet of Dudgeon
Seape, where the very River Seape gathers itself
into substance and joins the great estuary to the
Western Sea. Back up by another way, then, still
singing forte as they go
to Dugeon Down beneath the
great ancient hill of that
name..(eons later the national railway scheme will pass the track along
below the looming down and
build a quite hideous victorian stationhouse
beyond the little town and
call it Dudgeon Down Halt.)
At last, weary and foot-
sore but gamely singing on
the Wassailing Mice will
come to Dudgeon Hall itself
and offer the Resident and
His family assembled and
retainers marshaled to the
flanks their annual verses.
From his duty post high
in the ornate baroque frame
carvings, The Mouse In The
Clock looks down and listens with proprietary
pride to the tiny voices
ensemble of his fellows.
The wassailsong done with
many excellent verses, the
singers present an especial
oeuvre..freely borrowed from an operetta called
The Vagabond King:
"Give me ten mice
who are stout-hearted mice
and I'll soon give you ten
thousand more!
Start me so nice
with just ten doughty mice
who will fight for the
Right they adore! And!
Shoulder to shoulder and
bolder and bolder they grow
as they march to the Fore!
Then! There's not a cat
alive can halt a plan or
douse! When! Stout-hearted
mice! Can stick together
mouse to mouse!"
And then, close marching
as they hum the theme, the
Wassailing Mice wheel about
and exit..(The Mouse In The
Clock near bursts with pride as the Resident himself cries Here!Here! and applauds fiercely as the rest of the household
joins.
Now there! There is a
Christmas!
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