By Sir Charles Grandiose
night I pondered, deep and weary,
On matters typical of noble enquiry--
Taxes, estates, money--then
I noticed with a start 'twas the evening when
Ghosts and goblins hap upon the scene:
That most dread night of Hallowe'en.
'Twas then my neck pricked, hair by hair.
I heard a noise upon the stair!
A gentle creaking, spectral tred
Leading upwards. Reason fled
And there I shivered at sight unseen
That horrid night, last Hallowe'en.
I cracked the door. It floated wide;
I scanned the hall from side to side.
"What doom has come?" I whispered soft.
Dame Echo whisked my words aloft
To resound 'mongst the stately beams.
I cursed the night of Hallowe'en.
Another tiptoe then heard I fall!
A chambermaid came down the hall
With lantern lit. "I heard a noise,"
She said from afar with a timid voice.
"So dreadful 'twas, it might have been
A ghoul or sprite, on Hallowe'en."
She came much closer, and 'gan to scream
Gazing at me as if in a dream.
I followed her eyes and looked down.
I'd ventured out sans dressing gown.
(A bad mistake, had not it been
A most distressing Hallowe'en.)
We heard the sound once more. We turned
To follow the source, our fear well spurned.
The maid did quiver. I meant to scorn her
But then loomed large from around a corner
A greenish ghast, the worst I'd seen
On or outside of Hallowe'en.
The maid, she crumpled like a barley sack.
I gasped: 'Twas my wife in a cold mud pack!
A horrific sight in one's one manor.
Then she conked one with a spanner.
The moral? Wear your gown if you're to be seen
Wandering the halls with a maid on Hallowe'en.
Bow-Huntin' Bill writes:
Dear Sir Chuck,
That column by your wife a few months ago really got on my nerves.
You know, the one about the cattle prod.
I don't buy it, Big Chuck. She might've got around your
idiot secretary and wangled it so her column got in instead of
yours, but I can't believe that you would let yourself be prodded.
Say it ain't so, Chuck! Tell me it's you who wears the
pants in the Grandiose family. And just for the record,
how do you handle your wife?
Big Bow-Huntin' Bill
Sir Charles replies:
My dear Mister Big,
Our Lord God has seen fit to create the sexes to compliment
each other. Each has a role within the marriage to contribute.
The man provides strength for the family. He provides the home
and the means for sustenance. He guides his family along the
paths of righteousness, and ensures that they are disciplined
when they stray. The man is the foundation upon which the family
And the wife? She is to provide nurture to the wee kiddies,
and to make the home a pleasant environment for the hard-working
manly man. She is to bring his slippers in the evening, pour
him a whiskey when he blows his military whistle, and see to
it that the meals are not slop fit only for the piggies.
So, how does one handle the Lady Felicia, Mr. Big? Very, very
carefully. She is liable to give one a pistol-whipping.
Admitting defeat, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
i'm in a chuff ere over me wife, you see shes seeing other
blokes and doin whatever wiv them and its just a bit of what
for if you knowt i mean. an she wont get me a beer or nuffing.
so. tell me how to give her what for.
yer mate dougie.
Sir Charles replies:
Ah, young Douglas,
Allow one to inquire into the health of your wife, your sister,
and your cousin. She's fine, is she? Glad to hear it.
Noting that your present policy of keeping problems in the
family is working admirably, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
Dear Lady Felicia,
Kindly send me ur opinion about my poem:.......
At the Hour of Success.
Necessity is the mother of Invention.
Only people with strong Motivation
Will be able to fight the Competition
So as to reach the doors of Elevation.
Inorder to reach the doors of Elevation.
One may even violate the prevailing Rules & Regulations
Well for your kind Information
You will be facing with charges pertaining to Prosecution.
Instead follow the road to Meditation.
It will teach you the art of Concentration
Blessed with the fruits of Dedication
You will find yourself standing amidst fame & Recognition.
This matured step towards Salvation.
Will pave way for the cremation
Of all your ill-thoughts and Action
Resulting in greater sense of Satisfaction.
The Lady Felicia replies:
This is just the sort of inspirational - nay, incendiary! - poetry
that one keeps from one's servants.
One supposes it is all very well for one's parlormaid to dream
fantastic dreams of a fabulous life, but one feels it ought to
be confined to a visit to the pantomime on her day out.
This sort of literature only perpetuates the myth that people
can rise above their station or, more vulgarly, "pull themselves
up by their bootstraps".
My dear Chiranjeevi,
the fact is: There are those who serve and those who are served.
You would do better to devote your considerable literary
talents to encouraging people to accept their lot in life and
not to tempting people from their duty with visions of fame and
Is it not more seemly that people of the sort you are addressing
in this poem should find their satisfaction and salvation in
their dedication to their betters? One does fervently believe
this to be true.
Serenely, one remains,
Lady Felicia Grandiose