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The Stones of Gosh

Now, here is a tale of the Glugs of Gosh,
In the end of the year umteen;
Of the Glugs of Gosh and their great King Splosh,
 And Tush, his virtuous Queen.
And here is a tale of the Oglike Ogs,
  In their neighbouring land of Podge;
Of their sayings and doings and plottings and brewings,
  And something about Sir Stodge.
  Wise to profundity,
  Stout to rotundity,
  That was the Knight Sir Stodge.

Oh, the King was rich, and the Queen was fair,
And they made a very respectable pair.
And whenever a Glug in that peaceful land,
Did anything no one could understand
The Knight, Sir Stodge, he looked in a book,
And charged that Glug with a crime called Crook.
And the great Judge Fudge, who wore for a hat
The skin of a female tortoise-shell cat,
He fined that Glug for his actions rash,
And frequently asked to be paid in cash.
Then every Glug went home to rest
With his head in a bag and his toes to the west;
For they knew it was best,
Since their grandpas slept with their toes to the west.

But all of the tale that is so far told
  Has nothing whatever to do
With the Ogs of Podge, and their crafty dodge,
And the trade in pickles and glue.
To trade with the Glugs came the Ogs to Gosh,
And they said in the mildest of tones,
'We'll sell you pianers and pickels and spanners
For seventeen shiploads of stones
Smooth 'uns or nobbly 'uns,
Firm 'uns or wobbly 'uns,
All that we ask is stones.'

And the King said, 'What?' and the Queen said, 'Why,
That is awfully cheap to the things I buy!
That grocer of ours in the light brown hat
Asks two-and-eleven for pickles like that!'
But a Glug stood up with a wart on his nose,
And he cried, 'Your Majesties! Ogs is foes!'
But the Glugs cried, 'Peace! Will you hold your jaw!
How did our grandpas fashion the law?'
Said the Knight, Sir Stodge, as he opened a book,
'If the goods were cheap then the goods they took.'
So they fined the Glug with the wart on his nose
For wearing a wart with his everyday clothes.
And the goods were brought home through a Glug named Jones;
And the Ogs went home with their loads of stones,
Which they landed with glee in the land of Podge.
Do you notice the dodge?
Not yet? Well, no more did the Knight, Sir Stodge.

In the following Summer the Ogs came back
With a cargo of eight-day clocks,
And hand-painted screens, and sewing machines,
 And mangles, and scissors, and socks.
And they said, 'For these excellent things we bring
We are ready to take more stones;
And in bricks or road-metal for goods you will settle
Indented by your Mister Jones.'
Cried the Glugs praisingly:
'Why, how amazingly
Smart of industrious Jones!'

And the King said, 'Hum,' and the Queen said, 'Oo!
That curtain! What a bee-ootiful blue!'
But a Glug stood up with some very large ears,
And said, 'There is more in this thing than appears!
So we ought to be taxing these goods of the Ogs,
Or our industry soon will be gone to the dogs.'
And the King said, 'Bosh! You're un-Gluggish and rude!'
And the Queen said, 'What an absurd attitude!'
Then the Glugs cried, 'Down with political quacks!
How did our grandpas look at a tax?'
So the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book.
'No tax,' said he, 'wherever I look.'
Then they fined the Glug with the prominent ears
For being old-fashioned by several years;
And the Ogs went home with the stones, full-steam.
Do you notice the scheme?
Not yet? Nor did the Glugs in their dreamiest dreams.

Then every month to the land of the Gosh
The Ogs they continued to come,
With buttons and hooks and medical books
And rotary engines and rum,
Large cases with labels, occasional tables,
Hair tonic and fiddles and 'phones;
And the Glugs, while copncealing their joy in the dealing,
Paid promptly in nothing but stones.
Why, it was screamingly
Laughable, seemingly
Asking for nothing but stones!

And the King said, 'Haw!' and the Queen said, 'Oh!
Our drawing-room now is a heavenly show
Of large overmantels and whatnots and chairs,
And a statue of Splosh at the head of the stairs.'
But a Glug stood up with a cast in his eye,
And he said, 'Far too many baubles we buy;
With all the Gosh factories closing their doors,
And importers' warehouses lining our shores.'
But the Glugs cried, 'Down with such meddlesome fools!
What did our grandpas lay down in their rules?'
And the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book:
'To cheapness,' he said, 'was the road they took.'
Then every Glug who was not too fat
Turned seventeen handspri
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

4:06 min read

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis, better known as C. J. Dennis, was an Australian poet known for his humorous poems, especially "The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke", published in the early 20th century. Though Dennis's work is less well known today, his 1915 publication of The Sentimental Bloke sold 65,000 copies in its first year, and by 1917 he was the most prosperous poet in Australian history. Together with Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson, both of whom he had collaborated with, he is often considered among Australia's three most famous poets. While attributed to Lawson by 1911, Dennis later claimed he himself was the 'laureate of the larrikin'. When he died at the age of 61, the Prime Minister of Australia Joseph Lyons suggested he was destined to be remembered as the 'Australian Robert Burns'. more…

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