[With apologies to the progressive organisers of a certain Exhibition
at Olympia.]
"Before the thing ends," I observed to my Lilian,
"Let's hasten and see if it's true
That the Fortunate Isles and the Vale of Avilion
Are dumped at Olympia. Do."
And Lilian said, "Thos,
Happy thought!" and it was;
But that very same day it occurred to a million
Intelligent Londoners too.
There were hangings and curtains and carpets and ranges
For kitchens, and cauldrons and pots,
And vacuum-cleaners and servant-exchanges,
And toys for the infantile tots.
There were homes of the Russ
Which would not do for us;
There was furniture taken from futurist granges
At Hanwell and similar spots.
There were baths with gold taps and a malachite stopper,
And one with a card that explained
It was open to all who expended a copper
To fill it and try it. But, trained
As we were in the rules
Of Victorian schools,
Neither Lilian nor I thought that that would be proper,
And so we severely refrained.
There were rooms which suggested the time when the slattern
Should trouble no longer, and all
Should be comfort and peace in the empire of Saturn,
But oh, it was hot in that hall!
And "Lilian," said I,
"I could drop. Let us buy
That brace of armchairs of a willowy pattern,
And rest by the side of this stall."
But Lilian said "No." The implacable faces
Of constables frowned. With a sob
We turned us away from that palmy oasis
And went and had tea for a bob.
That was helpful, no doubt,
But before we got out
Through the ranks of the ravenous, squealing for places,
We all but expired in the mob.
"This is closer," said Lil, "than the bell of a diver."
"It's awful," I answered, "my sweet;
Any room in this show would be dear at a fiver,
Compared with our worst. Let us fleet."
So I hastened to nab
A well-oiled taxicab,
And "The Ideal Home," I remarked to the driver,
And mentioned our number and street.
E. G. V. KNOX.
October 29, 1913.