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    Kensington Rhymes
    Kensington Rhymes
    Kensington Rhymes
    Ebook85 pages29 minutes

    Kensington Rhymes

    By J.R. Monsell and Compton Mackenzie

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateFeb 1, 2008
    Kensington Rhymes

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      Book preview

      Kensington Rhymes - J.R. Monsell

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kensington Rhymes, by Compton Mackenzie

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license

      Title: Kensington Rhymes

      Author: Compton Mackenzie

      Illustrator: J.R. Monsell

      Release Date: March 13, 2012 [EBook #39128]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KENSINGTON RHYMES ***

      Produced by Chuck Greif from scanned pages available at

      the Internet Archive.

      KENSINGTON RHYMES

      THE PUNCH AND JUDY SHOW

      K E N S I N G T O N

      R  H  Y  M  E  S

      BY   COMPTON MACKENZIE

      ILLUSTRATED   BY   J. R. MONSELL

      LONDON: MARTIN SECKER

      NUMBER FIVE JOHN STREET ADELPHI

      First published 1912

      PRINTED BY

      BALLANTYNE & COMPANY LTD

      AT THE BALLANTYNE PRESS

      TAVISTOCK STREET COVENT GARDEN

      LONDON

      TO

      ETHEL LONG

      CONTENTS

      KENSINGTON RHYMES

      OUR house is very high and red,

      The steps are very white,

      The balcony is full of flowers,

      The knocker's very bright.

      The hall has got a coloured lamp,

      A rack for father's hat,

      And pegs for coats: a curious word[A]

      Is printed on the mat.

      The kitchen ticks too loud at night,

      It is a horrid place;

      Black-beetles run about the floor

      At a most dreadful pace.

      The cellar is quite black with coal,

      The cat goes scratching there;

      People go tramping past above,

      But nobody knows where.

      The dining-room has rosy walls,

      And silver knives and forks,

      And when I listen at the door,

      I hear the popping corks.

      The library smells like new boots,

      It is a woolly room;

      The housemaid comes at eight o'clock

      And sweeps it with a broom.

      The staircase has a thousand rods

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