大象传媒

The Fruit-Cake Eaters

"Courage!" he said, and pointed to the tap,
"and make thou it a pint, they鈥檒l be here soon"
In the afternoon her maj came to a land
In which it seemed always afternoon.
But round the green, a fetid air did swoon,
whiffing like one that hath a wonky drain.
Fair bodged was Jason鈥檚 palace in the noon
And like a downward smoke, a slender stream of brownish gunk to fall and pause and fall did seem.

A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke,
Slow-dropping on to linda鈥檚 lawn, did go;
And some thro' cellar walls and fences broke,
Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.
They saw the malod鈥檙ous river outward flow
From the new made lavs: inside, three job-lot slops,
bought cheap from dodgy van on hill of snow,
Stood all o鈥檈r-flush'd: Jase, dew'd with showery drops,
Up-clomb the shadowy pipe with spanner, wrench and mops

The stench of sewage lingered low adown
in Betty鈥檚 shop: thro' country park the mire
extends far inland, through yellow fields planted with rape,
and many a barbed wire
And meadow rise, and new made crawfordale;
A land where all things always seem'd the same!
But round about the green with faces pale,
Glum faces pale against that fetid lane
The long-baked melancholy fruit-cake-eaters came.

Tressles they saved, from that infernal stench,
Laden with tea and scones, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them,
And taste, to him the access at all time,
made not the brew taste less of sewage-slime
For truly had the soil seep鈥檇 through the urn.

O royal party, do not Ambridge spurn
Cried Peg, prostrate afore the muck-drenched merc
In which the fleeing royals , half bezerk, did seek to fly;
鈥極ut of my way, mad crone鈥� the Duke of Edinburgh did then intone
The Monarch begged her ragged driver brake
鈥楩orgive the sad old German鈥� then she spake
鈥淰iagra hath him maddened, I do fear
Now, tell me Mrs Wool, who hath one here鈥�

And so in fawning tones Peg did present
First humble-hearted Shula and her spawn
The gracious Daniel, prostrate on the lawn
Did flash his eye and suddenly a chill
Ran up One鈥檚 spine鈥�.Thou must be Jill鈥�
鈥淥h Marm , accept my humble jar of jam
From precious brambles fashioned, by the am,
And perfect boiled at constant temperature
Vouchsafe鈥檇 by Barford鈥檚 great thermometer鈥�

With fresh disdain the royal brow did crease
鈥極h surely not more bleedin鈥� Jam, pur lease鈥�
Thought she, but could not give full vent
To her malignity, for from the tent
An anguished cry did rise, and gurgling wave
Of sludge, gushed down , engulfing queen and slave
As great Vesuvius crushed Pompeian pride

So did the effluent wave in its foul tide
Bring down the monarch, and her wimpering brood,
With Peg and Shula swept by stinking flood
Their screams and faces lost beneath the foam
Then some one said 鈥楾hey will return no more!鈥�
And all at once they sang 鈥極ur island home
Is now beyond their power; they will no longer reign!鈥�