How a Fisherman Corked up His Foe in a Jar

Description

A fisherman lived on the shore,

(It’s a habit that fishers affect,)

And his life was a hideous bore:

He had nothing to do but collect

Continual harvests of seaweed and shells,

Which he stuck upon photograph frames,

To sell to the guests in the summer hotels

With the quite inappropriate names!



He would wander along by the edge

Of the sea, and I know for a fact

From the pools with a portable dredge

He would curious creatures extract:

And, during the season, he always took lots

Of tourists out fishing for bass,

And showed them politely impossible spots,

In the culpable way of his class.



It happened one day, as afar

He roved on the glistening strand,

That he chanced on a curious jar,

Which lay on a hummock of sand.

It was closed at the mouth with a cork and a seal,

And over the top there was tied

A cloth, and the fisherman couldn’t but feel

That he ought to see what was inside.



But what were his fear and surprise

When the stopper he held in his hand!

For a genie of singular size

Appeared in a trice on the sand,

Who said in the roughest and rudest of tones:

“A monster you’ve foolishly freed!

I shall simply make way with you, body and bones,

And that with phenomenal speed!”

The fisherman looked in his face,

And answered him boldly: “My friend,

How you ever were packed in that space

Is something I don’t comprehend.

Pray do me the favor to show me how you

Can do it, as large as you are.”

The genie retorted: “That’s just what I’ll do!”

And promptly reëntered the jar.


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