The Princess's Finger-Nail: A Tale Of Nonsense Land

All through the Castle of High-bred Ease,     Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please,     Spread consternation and wild despair.     The queen was wringing her hands and hair;     The maids of honour were sad and solemn;     The pages looked blank as they stood in column;     The court-jester blubbered, "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo"     The cook in the kitchen dropped tears in the stew     And all through the castle went sob and wail,     For the princess had broken her finger-nail:     The beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose,     Bride-elect of the Lord High-Nose,     Broken her finger-nail down to the quick -     No wonder the queen and her court were sick.     Never sorrow so dread before     Had dared to enter that castle door.     Oh! what would my Lord His-High-Nose say     When she took off her glove on her wedding-day?     The fairest princess in Nonsense Land,     With a broken finger-nail on her hand!     'Twas a terrible, terrible accident,     And they called a meeting of parliament;     And never before that royal Court     Had come such question of grave import     As "How could you hurry a nail to grow?"     And the skill of the kingdom was called to show.     They sent for Monsieur File-'em-off;     He smoothed down the corners so ragged and rough.     They sent for Madame la Diamond-Dust,     Who lived on the fingers of upper-crust;     They sent for Professor de Chamois-Skin,     Who took her powder and rubbed it in;     They sent for the pudgy nurse Fat-on-the-Bone     To bathe her finger in eau-de-Cologne;     And they called the court surgeon, Monsieur Red-Tape,     To hear what he thought of the new nail's shape,     Over the kingdom the telegrams flew     Which told how the finger-nail thrived and grew;     And all through the realm of Nonsense Land     They offered up prayers for the princess's hand.     At length the glad tidings were heard with a shout     What the princess's finger-nail had grown out:     Pointed and polished and pink and clean,     Befitting the hand of a some-day queen.     Salutes were fired all over the land     By the home-guard battery pop-gun band;     And great was the joy of my Lord High-Nose,     Who straightway ordered his wedding clothes,     And paid his tailor, Don Wait-for-aye,     Who died of amazement the self-same day.     My lord by a jury was judged insane;     For they said - and the truth of the saying was plain -     That a lord of such very high pedigree     Would never be paying his bills, you see,     Unless he was out of his head; and so     They locked him up without more ado.     And the beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose     Pined for her lover, my Lord High-Nose,     Till she entered a convent and took the veil -     And this is the end of my nonsense tale.