Remembering Beachcomber

The comment by Charles Dawson on my recent post, reminded me of the  great Beachcomber's view of A. A. Milne.

This is from The Best of Beachcomber (J. B. Morton):

There is a great vogue for what is called the Woogie-Poogie-Boo kind of children's book, and I am doing my best to get one ready. I don't know what it will be called, but I rather fancy Songs Through My Hat, or perhaps When We Were Very Silly. Here is a poem called "Theobald James".

I've got a silk-worm
A teeny-tiny silk-worm;
I call my silk-worm
Theobald James.
But nursie says it's cruel
Nursie says it's wicked
To call a teeny-tiny little
Silk-
Worm
NAMES

I said to my silk-worm
"Oh, Mr Silk-worm,
I'd rather be a silk-worm
Than anything far!"
And nursie says he answered,
Nursie says he shouted,
"You wish you were a silk-worm?
You little
Prig,
You
ARE!"

Other Beachcomber gems in this genre include:

John Percy,

John Percy
Said to his nursy,
Nursy," he said, said he.
"Tell father
I'd much rather
He didn't write books about me."
"Lawkamercy!"
Shouted nursy,
"John Percy," said she,
"If dad stopped it,
If dad dropped it,
We shouldn't have honey for tea!"

and, perhaps the most final:

Now We are Sick:

Hush, hush,
Nobody cares!
Christopher Robin
    Has
         Fallen
               Down-
                     Stairs.

(With thanks to Charlotte's Library, here, which saved me having to dig out my copy of Beachcomber)