Whose gaudy gewgaw "gems" reflect his guile;
The sleepy Peddlers from the Land of Nod,
Who still shekinah on ancestral sod;
And all the Wise Men from the Eastern marts
Who plan their ventures by the Astral charts,
Plotted and vowed, by Imps and Endor Witches,
To wrest from Jacobs Brothers all their riches.
So, working now with Bulls, anon with Bears;
Rigging the market to advance their wares
Or to depress the House of Jacobs' shares,
It looked as if the plotters might make good
Against the unsuspecting Brotherhood.
But patiently the Brethren stood their ground,
Unmindful of the rumors passed around,
Or baits to tempt Cupidity thrown out,
That throttle Judgment and put Sense to rout,—
Until the market, unsupported, broke:
Then, feigning sleep, they suddenly awoke
And took possession of the Stock Exchange.
Like beaten curs or mongrels with the mange
The Plotters cringed. The Shorts in wild dismay
To cover ran, but Zounds! they had to pay
Four prices to the Brethren who controlled
The entire issue of the short stock sold.
And thus the Brethren made a tidy sum,
Keeping their standing in Financialdom.
Keen businessmen, they sold or bought as well,
But never showed anxiety to sell.
So Jacob's Sons became, as was their bent,
The mighty Merchants of the Orient.
No goose that ever layed a golden egg
Would needs have come to one of them to beg
For life or respite. "Nay! Lay on, Good Goose!
We'll shield thee and thy gander from abuse!"
Long-headed and kind-hearted, in such cases
Their noses were not lopped to spite their faces.
Too wise they were: they had too good a teacher
To make the nose too prominent a feature!
While yet the goose was itching for the nest
They egged her on and Quack! she did the rest.
A goose she would appear to give so much
To those who had—but Life is ever such.
But Jacob's Sons like Isaac, sturdy Oak,
Made no complaint but bore their golden yolk,
And, thrifty men, in many baskets stored
The golden ovals and increased their hoard.
And so their nests were feathered, as we know,
But cautious men they were, who didn't crow.
And so we see them on the filmy screens,
Matching their talents 'gainst the Philistines:
And looking close, we notice that the Brothers
Have bigger stacks before them than the others.
And then there's Job, the Paradox, who toils
To show good humor when beset by boils;
And Jinxy Jonah, ducked and rudely whaled,
Because he had no passport when he sailed.
(Whene'er I see the Ocean Mammal spout
Methinks it's habit—spewing Jonah out.)
Delilah's "next"! Tonsorial Adept—
A cutting up while headstrong Samson slept.
Shear nonsense—that man's vigor could be sapped
Because he had a haircut when he napped,
Or lose his nerve, e'en at the yawning grave,
Tho' just escaping by the closest shave.
With Samson's case a multitude compare,
For men miss greatness ofttimes by a hair.
'Twas his conceit that made him lose his nerve,
As long-haired, whiskered men, bereft, deserve.
The facts are these: that Samson used to wear
A wig with ringlets, 'cause his head was bare.
One night, in playful mood, Delilah stole
Up to his cot and touched the poor old soul
For his toupee. He woke, chagrined, and fled
Because his capillary roots were dead.
What transformation! Thus the Man of Might
Became a pussyfooter overnight,
And went to writing verses from that minute
Finding his strength, not on his head, but in it.
Of all your rulers, Roman, Jew or Fezzer,
The first or most pronounced is Nebu'nezzar.
(Too long this monstrous name has been derided,
And so the chad, for rhythm, is elided.)
"Neb" is enough, for short, and apropos
Of Shadrach, Meshack and Abednego,
The King waxed wroth because these three live wires
Passed thru his melting pots and furnace fires
Without a burn: remarkable endurance!
Because protected by good Fire Insurance.
He paid the price for arson ere he died,
Was kept lit up and rightly classified
Among the beasts: and now that all is over
'Tis safe to say he did not live in clover,
But roamed the pastures, when he lost his pull,
And grazed himself to death: he was some bull.
Then next we come to Ruth, the Moabite:
Her husband Chilion (not her!) one night
Blew out the gas, and Ruth was thus bereft;
But Naomi, her Ma-in-Law, was left
To comfort her: and jolly well she did it!
For Ruth's great grief soon ceased or else she hid it.
Then to Naomi's Land the two repaired,
Their love enhanced by sorrows they had shared.
And so the elder of the widowed twain
Set out to find, for Ruth, another swain;
And all her schemes, 'tis said, succeeded so as
To marry Ruth to wealthy kinsman Boaz.
Unselfish? No! She was too old to wed,
So Ruth agreed to give her board and bed,
Trusting to Boaz not to spoil her plan
Who swallowed hook and line like any man.
The attic room, or one just off the hall,
Was where Naomi nightly had to crawl;
And all her meals, unleavened bread and 'taters,
Were eaten in the kitchen with the waiters,—
For Boaz, when the honeymoon was