The Triantiwontigongolope

There's a very funny insect that you do not often spy,

And it isn't quite a spider, and it isn't quite a fly;

It is something like a beetle, and a little like a bee,

But nothing like a wooly grub that climbs upon a tree.

Its name is quite a hard one, but you'll learn it soon,

I hope.

So try:  Tri-      Tri-anti-wonti-        Triantiwontigongolope.

It lives on weeds and wattle-gum, and has a funny face;

Its appetite is hearty, and its manners a disgrace.

When first you come upon it, it will give you quite a scare,

But when you look for it again, you find it isn't there.

And unless you call it softly it will stay away and mope.

So try:  Tri-      Tri-anti-wonti-        Triantiwontigongolope.

It trembles if you tickle it or tread upon its toes;

It is not an early riser, but it has a snubbish nose.

If you snear at it, or scold it, it will scuttle off in shame,

But it purrs and purrs quite proudly if you call it by its name,

And offer it some sandwiches of sealing-wax and soap.

So try:  Tri-      Tri-anti-wonti-        Triantiwontigongolope .

But of course you haven't seen it; and I truthfully

That I haven't seen it either, and I don't know its address.

For there isn't such an insect, though there really might have

If the trees and grass were purple, and the sky was bottle green.

It's just a little joke of mine, which you'll forgive,

I hope.

Oh, try!  Tri-      Tri-anti-wonti-        Triantiwontigongolope.

This is taken from a book published in 1921 C.

J.

Dennis' Book for Kids.

C.

J. and his wife had no children of their own but his love of children is evident in this collection of beautiful children poems: - his foreward read:" ....

Too all good children over fourand under four and

Be ye not over-prone to

On matters grave and

Mayhap you'll find within this

Some touch of youth's rare

If you will condescend to lookand not descend to frowning.

The mind of one small boy may holdodd fancies and

To guide a hand unsure and oldthat moves these days to

For hair once bright in days of

Grows grey (or somewhat slaty)and now alas he's over fourthough under four and eighty.

C.

J.

Dennis