O'ER unreclaimed suburban clays Some years ago were hobblin'An elderly ghost of easy ways,And an influential goblin.
The ghost was a sombre spectral shape,A fine old fiveact fogy,The goblin imp,a lithe young ape,A fine lowcomedy bogy.
And as they exercised their joints,Promoting quick digestion,They talked on several curious points,And raised this delicate question:
"Which of us two is Number One
The ghostie,or the goblin?"
And o'er the point they raised in fun They fairly fell asquabblin'.
They'd barely speak,and each,in fine,Grew more and more reflective:
Each thought his own particular line By chalks the more effective.
At length they settled some one should By each of them be haunted,And so arrange that either could Exert his prowess vaunted.
"The Quaint against the Statuesque"
By competition lawful
The goblin backed the Quaint Grotesque,The ghost the Grandly Awful.
"Now,"said the goblin,"here's my plan In attitude commanding,I see a stalwart Englishman By yonder tailor's standing.
"The very fittest man on earth My influence to try on Of gentle,p'r'aps of noble birth,And dauntless as a lion!
Now wrap yourself within your shroud
Remain in easy hearing
Observe you'll hear him scream aloud When I begin appearing!
The imp with yell unearthly wild
Threw off his dark enclosure:
His dauntless victim looked and smiled With singular composure.
For hours he tried to daunt the youth,For days,indeed,but vainly The stripling smiled!to tell the truth,The stripling smiled inanely.