by Eliot · Cluster: Joy · Animals · Comic Verse Song
Abstract
Comic narrative of two notorious cat-burglar cats who wreck homes around Kensington; light verse on roguish feline mischief.
Connections
Archetypes: Trickster Motifs: Animals, City Themes & Concepts: Joy Forms & Genres: Narrative Poem
Testo integrale / Full text
Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer
Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were a very notorious couple of cats.
As knockabout clowns, quick-change comedians, tight-rope walkers and
acrobats
They had an extensive reputation. They made their home in Victoria
Grove —
That was merely their centre of operation, for they were incurably given
to rove.
They were very well known in Cornwall Gardens, in Launceston Place
and in Kensington Square —
They had really a little more reputation than a couple of cats can very
well bear.
If the area window was found ajar
And the basement looked like a field of war,
If a tile or two came loose on the roof,
Which presently ceased to be waterproof,
If the drawers were pulled out from the bedroom chests,
And you couldn’t find one of your winter vests,
Or after supper one of the girls
Suddenly missed her Woolworth pearls:
Then the family would say: ‘It’s that horrible cat!
It was Mungojerrie — or Rumpelteazer!’ — And most of the time they
left it at that.
Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had a very unusual gift of the gab.
They were highly efficient cat-burglars as well, and remarkably smart
at a smash-and-grab.
They made their home in Victoria Grove. They had no regular
occupation.
They were plausible fellows, and liked to engage a friendly policeman
in conversation.
When the family assembled for Sunday dinner,
With their minds made up that they wouldn’t get thinner
On Argentine joint, potatoes and greens,
And the cook would appear from behind the scenes
And say in a voice that was broken with sorrow:
‘I’m afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow!
For the joint has gone from the oven — like that!’
Then the family would say: ‘It’s that horrible cat!
It was Mungojerrie — or Rumpelteazer!’ — And most of the time they
left it at that.
Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had a wonderful way of working
together.
And some of the time you would say it was luck, and some of the time
you would say it was weather.
They would go through the house like a hurricane, and no sober person
could take his oath
Was it Mungojerrie — or Rumpelteazer? or could you have sworn that
it mightn’t be both?
And when you heard a dining-room smash
Or up from the pantry there came a loud crash
Or down from the library came a loud ping
From a vase which was commonly said to be Ming —
Then the family would say: ‘Now which was which cat?
It was Mungojerrie! AND Rumpelteazer!’ — And there’s nothing at all
to be done about that!
Old Deuteronomy
Old Deuteronomy’s lived a long time;
He’s a Cat who has lived many lives in succession.
He was famous in proverb and famous in rhyme
A long while before Queen Victoria’s accession.
Old Deuteronomy’s buried nine wives
And more — I am tempted to say, ninety-nine;
And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives
And the village is proud of him in his decline.
At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy,
When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall,
The Oldest Inhabitant croaks: ‘Well, of all …
Things … Can it be … really! … No! … Yes! …
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My mind may be wandering, but I confess
I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!’
Old Deuteronomy sits in the street,
He sits in the High Street on market day;
The bullocks may bellow, the sheep they may bleat,
But the dogs and the herdsmen will turn them away.
The cars and the lorries run over the kerb,
And the villagers put up a notice: ROAD CLOSED —
So that nothing untoward may chance to disturb
Deuteronomy’s rest when he feels so disposed
Or when he’s engaged in domestic economy:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: ‘Well, of all …
Things … Can it be … really! … No! … Yes! …
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My sight’s unreliable, but I can guess
That the cause of the trouble is Old Deuteronomy!’
Old Deuteronomy lies on the floor
Of the Fox and French Horn for his afternoon sleep;
And when the men say: ‘There’s just time for one more‚’
Then the landlady from her back parlour will peep
And say: ‘Now then, out you go, by the back door,
For Old Deuteronomy musn’t be woken —
I’ll have the police if there’s any uproar’ —
And out they all shuffle, without a word spoken.
The digestive repose of that feline’s gastronomy
Must never be broken, whatever befall:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: ‘Well, of all …
Things … Can it be … really! … Yes! … No! …
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My legs may be tottery, I must go slow
And be careful of Old Deuteronomy!’