Kerr wrote a book, and a good book, too;
At least I managed to read it through
Without finding very much room for blame,
And a good many other folks did the same.
But when any one asked me : “Have you read?”
Or: “How do you like?” I only said:
“Very good, very good! and I'm glad enough;
For his other writings are horrible stuff.”
Banks wrote a play, and it had a run.
( That's a good deal more than ever I've done. )
The interest held with hardly a lag
From the overture to the final tag.
But when any one asked me : “Have you seen?”
Or: “What do you think?” I looked serene
And remarked: “Oh, a pretty good thing of its kind,
But I guess Mr. Shakespeare need n't mind!”
Phelps made a machine;‘ t was smooth as grease.
( I could n't invent its smallest piece
In a thousand years. ) It was tried and tried,
Until everybody was satisfied.
But when any one asked me : “Will it pay?” —
“Is it really good?” — I could only say:
“It's a marvelous thing! Why, it almost thinks!
And Phelps is a wonder — too bad he drinks!”