I
MRS. FISKE
Staccato, hurried, nervous, brisk,
Cascading, intermittent, choppy,
The brittle voice of Mrs. Fiske
Shall serve me now as copy.
Assist me, O my Muse, what time
I pen a bit of Deathless Rhyme!
Time was, when first that voice I heard,
Despite my close and tense endeavour,
When many an important word
Was lost and gone forever;
Though, unlike others at the play,
I never whispered: "wha'd'd she say?"
Some words she runstogetherso;
Some others are distinctly stated;
Some cometoofast and s o m e t o o s l o w
And some are syncopated.
And yet no voice--I am sincere--
Exists that I prefer to hear.
For what is called "intelligence"
By every Mrs. Fiskeian critic
As usual is just a sense
Of humour, analytic.
So any time I'm glad to frisk
Two bones to witness Mrs. Fiske.
II
Olga Nethersole
I like little Olga,
Her plays are so warm;
And if I don't see 'em,
They'll do me no harm.
My Puritan training
Has kept me from going
To dramas in which
Little Olga was showing.
But I like little Olga,
Her art is so warm;
And if I don't see her
She'll do me no harm.
