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 Jane Campbell. 
 

 COPYRIGHT, 18SS, 
 By jane CAMPBELL. 
 
Mother Goose's Protest. 
 
 At a meeting of the New Century Club, of Phila- 
 delphia, held one afternoon in April, the subject of 
 discussion happened to be ''Books That Have Flelped 
 Me." George Eliot and Miss Phelps, Humboldt and 
 Dante, Macaulay and Mark Twain, De Quincy and 
 Emerson, and numerous others received their due 
 meed of praise. Even Comly's Spelling Book and 
 the old-fashioned "Penny Books " were not forgotten, 
 but the paramount claims of "Mother Goose" were 
 completely ignored. One of the members of the 
 Club, therefore, wrote the following "Protest" in her 
 behalf. 
 
 Jane Campbell. 
 
Mother Goose's Protest. 
 
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 eNE afternoon in the early spring 
 As I chanced to be upon the wing, 
 And rapidly onward journeying 
 O'er tracts of lands and wastes of seas, 
 It happed some idly blowing breeze, 
 Or chance, or fate, or what you please, 
 
 Brought me to the Quaker City, 
 On the very day, when the Century Club 
 Had met together, its wits to rub 
 Against each other, and thus elicit 
 Some " spark divine." Well timed my visit ! 
 
 For so much was said, 
 
 And so much was read, 
 That I very much doubt, if I have ever 
 Before heard anything half so clever 
 
 Or learned too, and witty. 
 
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 Indeed your uninvited guest 
 
 Entered into it all with zest, 
 
 Laughed and applauded with the rest 
 
 The merry tale, the playful jest, 
 
 And willingly accorded too, 
 
 Much praise, whene'er much praise was due; 
 
 Admired in turn each worthy, who 
 
 Had helped you clever women, do 
 
 So much that was both good and new. 
 
 Now, I must own 
 
 Not quite unknown 
 Am I to fame. Years since my name 
 A mighty "household word" became. 
 
 I'll also add, 
 
 I'm rather glad, 
 Like other folks, when I have had 
 
 My just appreciation. 
 And so, that April afternoon 
 I sat and waited, thinking, soon 
 I'll hear how very great a boon 
 It is, I've given to mankind. 
 They're full of gratitude, I'll find. 
 And so I waited, not averse 
 
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 To hear the Century Club rehearse 
 To me, their obligation. 
 
 But the hours slipped by, and never a word 
 Not even once, was my name heard. 
 Though they talked of this one and talked of that, 
 Oh ! I tell you the names came out very pat. 
 There wasn't a single dissenting voice, nor a veto 
 To one member's being helped by George Eliot's 
 
 ''Tito." 
 Nor again, when another member would have us, 
 Believe she was aided by Miss Phelp's '* Avice," 
 I didn't object, though I own 'tAvas amazing 
 To me, to hear "Humboldt" receive so much praising. 
 But I wasn't displeased, I just thought if he 
 Wins such admiration, how much they'll give me ! 
 And I let " Butler " pass, and still sat there gayly, 
 Though I own for a moment I goggled at " Paley " 
 And even could smile, as next came the thought up 
 Of a poor little girl, on a "spelling book" brought up. 
 And agree with the member, who made a few cursory 
 Remarks on Miss Alcott's "Loves of the Nursery." 
 And clapped and applauded most vigorously, since he 
 Was favored by some — opium eating " De Quincy," 
 
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 And even for Thomas-a-Kempis and Dante 
 And Marcus Aurelius, my praise was not scanty. 
 Polite to the end, though tlie subject now roams 
 To ''Macaulay," the "Penny Books," "Mark Twain" 
 
 and " Hohnes," 
 And " Emerson " too, not once did I flout them, 
 Though I can't be expected to know much about them, 
 The most of them lived so long after my day ; 
 Though I haven't the ghost of a doubt, but that they 
 Are indebted to me, in almost every way 
 That an author can be. But be that as it may 
 I'll not press the point. 'Praps some names I forget, 
 For in my time there was no Professor Loisette 
 To come and undo civilization's dire ravages 
 And train us, until we'd the memories of savages. 
 
 I still sat serene. Sure my time must soon come, 
 And I hastily gathered and conjured up some 
 Few fitting phrases, in which to reply, 
 But I didn't need them, for not once was I 
 Even mentioned, one and all passed me by, 
 Though I can imagine no good reason why. 
 I cannot but own, I was deeply chagrined, 
 Here was I, who'd for nearly two centuries queened 
 
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 It and ruled — I could almost have cried — 
 Completely forgotten and pushed to one side. 
 
 Oh ! Thankless Ones ! Was it not I 
 In thrilling tale of Christmas pie 
 Devoured in quiet corner, 
 The great, the important lesson taught, 
 That simple acts like that, are fraught 
 With this great truth — that there is naught 
 That is of worth, but must be sought. 
 And if you want success to come. 
 Put in your thumb, to find the plum, 
 Like that dear child Jack Horner ? 
 
 And Thankless Ones. It is to me 
 What you first learned of Botany 
 You surely owe. 
 Did I not show 
 How in a row 
 In well conducted gardens, grow 
 Silver bells and cockle shells ? 
 And who is it but me, who tells 
 Of all the strange, life healing spells 
 In bramble bushes ? My heart swells 
 With just pride, when I call to mind 
 
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 My benefactions to mankind. 
 For where I ask you, can you find 
 So safe, so sure, 
 So swift a cure 
 This giving eyesight to the blind ? 
 But Hahnneman it is, who's famed 
 And he it is, who's always named 
 As first discoverer of the truth 
 That "Like cures like," when he, forsooth. 
 Was still unborn, unheard of, when 
 I first announced to suffering men — 
 If brambles put your eyes out, then 
 The same will put them in again. 
 
 And then again, you can't deny, 
 The fact, a moral teacher, I. 
 Has it not always been my cry 
 From uncongenial marriage, fly. 
 
 Else, be like that 
 
 Poor man. Jack Sprat, 
 Who couldn't, or wouldn't eat up all the fat, 
 
 And his lean hating wife, 
 
 Who spent all her life 
 
 In such turmoil and strife, 
 
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 That between them it always was war to the knife. 
 Yet here, I inculcate the law, 
 That good from evil we can draw — 
 Though things were bad they were not at their worst, 
 Jack Sprat and his wife, were not wholly accursed, 
 They were thrifty and cleanly, for is it not seen 
 They managed to keep their one platter quite clean ? 
 
 And then in Natural History, too, 
 I taught you all that first you knew. 
 How sheep are always getting lost ; 
 How dogs upon cow's horns are tossed ; 
 That blind mice always have cut tails ; 
 That people fish for whales in pails ; 
 The way cats go to London town ; 
 How in a quarrel for the crown 
 The lion whips the unicorn : 
 And that a black sheep has, when shorn, 
 Just three bags full of curly wool. 
 And then my pages too, are full 
 Of recipes of use to cooks. 
 Anticipating "cooking books." 
 I tell you that just twenty-four 
 Blackbirds go in a pie, no more. 
 
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 And show how that great rarity, 
 A barley pudding boiled, must be 
 Enriched with lumps of fat, and plums, 
 Each one as big as my two thumbs. 
 
 And then to me 
 Young piety 
 Is due, for can you doubt 
 That it was I, v/ho pointed out, 
 That all wicked men who wouldn't say their prayers. 
 Were seized by their left legs and straightway 
 thrown down stairs? 
 Again, Ungrateful Ones. I know 
 The sciences to me you owe. 
 Was it not I, who was the first 
 To set your youthful minds athirst 
 To study your geography ? 
 So that you too, could go and see 
 The Queen in famous London town, 
 And London Bridge, while falling down. 
 
 Can any one assert that I 
 
 In history, was ever dry ? 
 
 Have children not been known to cry 
 
 Ere Mrs. Winslow lived, for my 
 
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 True stories of the olden times, 
 
 Told in the most soul stirring rhymes? 
 
 When good King Arthur ruled this land. 
 
 How old King Cole had a fiddling band ; 
 
 Of Doctor Foster and his trip to Gloster ; 
 
 And the woman who had a cow and lost lier ; 
 
 Of the King of France, who with his men, 
 
 Marched up steep hills and down again. 
 
 And again Hygiene, I always taught, 
 And told all mothers that they ought 
 To give their babies fresh, pure air. 
 And so that they could have and to spare. 
 Explained the best place that a cradle could be 
 Was perched on the very top bough of a tree. 
 And I showed how pride goes before a fall, 
 Like poor Humpty Durapty upon his wall. 
 
 Did I not too, astronomize ? 
 And tell in the most pleasant guise 
 About the clever dame that flies 
 To sweep the cobwebs from the skies ? 
 And again, how the lofty minded cow 
 Jumped over the moon, I told, and how 
 Robin and Richard, lying abed 
 
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 Till ten, found then 
 The sun was nearly overhead ? 
 Was it not I, that problem solved 
 Which men have in their minds revolved 
 And pondered o'er? Is that strange spot, 
 The moon, inhabited or not? 
 Did I not show that it must be, 
 Since I'd recorded carefully. 
 That the man in the moon, came down too soon ; 
 
 And, rather incidentally. 
 Showed, like ourselves, that man must be 
 
 Devoured by curiosity. 
 For to ask the way to Norwich, came he. 
 Which shows in the moon, that there's no dearth 
 Of speculation about the earth. 
 
 But why thus go on ? The case is quite clear 
 No more am I fondly regarded here, 
 
 All my usefulness seems ended. 
 And the member who at an early age. 
 Had carefully covered full many a page. 
 On the ' ' Great Injustice that is done 
 To Old Maids," would my gratitude have won, 
 If she only had written thus feelingly 
 
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 Of tlie great injustice done to me. 
 
 I often have heard 
 It gravely averred, 
 Though before this I thought it was rather absurd, 
 That ''Republics are always ungrateful," but now 
 I admit it is true, for otherwise how 
 Can this treatment of me be defended ? 
 Indeed there's no use 
 To give any excuse 
 But that for forgetting poor old Mother Goose. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 Sherrerd Bros., 
 
 2S8 Carter Street, Phila. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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