Tuesday, August 1, 2017



Magnus McDubb who lived long, long ago

Was the servant, poor chap, of Bamboozalum Bo,

A tyrannical master and clever old wizard

Who could, if he chose, change a lad to a lizard.

Knowing this, Magnus worked harder and faster

To please such a scarily talented master.

One day he had done many wearisome chores

Such as sweeping the castle's uncarpeted floors

And shining the armor (as dull as old lead)

And making Bamboozalum's twenty-foot bed.

With all of these duties completed, young Magnus

Was having his tea with the chambermaid, Agnes,

When in came the wizard, who ordered McDubb

To fill with spring-water his solid gold tub.

Bamboozalum's words caused his servant to quail,

For it meant lugging water there, pail after pail.

And so when the wizard departed that day

In his own rather out-of-the-usual way . . .

(He just up and vanished!) the boy's temper flared.

"I'm weary!  I won't fill that tub!" he declared.

Instead I shall utter that magical word

Which my master once spoke and which I overheard.

Using this word, I shall speak to my broom

And bring it to life in the gloom of this room!"

He stared at his broom, which he'd carelessly dropped.

"Hocus-pocus!" he said . . . and it got up and hopped!

Yes, it hopped from the floor and politely it bowed.

"I'll work for you, master!" it muttered aloud.

Then seizing a pail in its magical grip,

It hopped to the spring, making trip after trip,

Till Bamboozalum's tub overflowed at the top.

When this was accomplished, the broom didn't stop.

It hopped to the kitchen and filled up the sink

Till it gurgled and gagged, overflowing its brink.

It filled every vessel and pot that was fillable,

For Magnus, you see had forgotten the syllable

Which, when he said it, would halt the hard work

Of the broom which was going completely berserk!

When the wizard returned from wherever he'd gone,

He found that a torrent was now his front lawn.

Angry, he shouted:  "Zig-giggityzop,"

Which long-winded word is wiz-Latin for "STOP!"

And the broomstick, exhausted, fell down with a flop.

Since old-fashioned fables aren't worthy a laurel

Unless they are garnished with some charming moral,

Here's mine:  When you start something foolish, young moppet,

It's wise to take care that you know how to stop it!

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