There lived in ancient Scribbletown a wise old writer-man,
Whose name was Homer Cicero Demosthenes McCann.
He'd written treatises and themes till, 'For a change,' he said,
'I think I'll write a children's book before I go to bed.'
He pulled down all his musty tomes in Latin and in Greek;
Consulted cyclopaedias and manuscripts antique,
Essays in Anthropology, studies in counterpoise--
'For these,' he said, 'are useful lore for little girls and boys.'
He scribbled hard, and scribbled fast, he burned the midnight oil,
And when he reached 'The End' he felt rewarded for his toil;
He said, 'This charming Children's Book is greatly to my credit.'
And now he's sorely puzzled that no child has ever read it.
Carolyn Wells's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Puzzled by Carolyn Wells )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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