Oh, the King was rich, and the Queen was fair,
And they made a very respectable pair.
    And whenever a Glug in that peaceful land,
    Did anything no one could understand,
The Knight, Sir Stodge, he looked in a book,
And charged that Glug with a crime called Crook.
    And the great Judge Fudge, who wore for a hat
    The sacred skin of a tortoiseshell cat,
He fined that Glug for his action rash,
And frequently asked a deposit in cash.
    Then every Glug, he went home to his rest
    With his head in a bag and his toes to the West;
                For they knew it was best,
    Since their grandpas slept with their toes to the West.

But all of the tale that is so far told
    Has nothing whatever to do
With the Ogs of Podge, and their crafty dodge,
    And the trade in pickles and glue.
To trade with the Glugs came the Ogs to Gosh,
    And they said in seductive tones,
“We’ll sell you pianers and pickels and spanners
    For seventeen shiploads of stones:
                Smooth ’uns or nobbly ’uns,
                Firm ’uns or wobbly ’uns,
    All we ask is stones.”

And the King said, “What?” and the Queen said, “Why,
That is awfully cheap to the things I buy!
    For that grocer of ours in the light brown hat
    Asks two and eleven for pickles like that!”
But a Glug stood up with a wart on his nose,
And cried, “Your Majesties! Ogs is foes!”
    But the Glugs cried, “Peace! Will you hold your jaw!
    How did our grandpas fashion the law?”
Said the Knight, Sir Stodge, as he opened his Book,
“When the goods were cheap then the goods we took.”
    So they fined the Glug with the wart on his nose
    For wearing a wart with his everyday clothes.
And the goods were brought home thro’ a Glug named Ghones;
And the Ogs went home with their loads of stones,
    Which they landed with glee in the land of Podge.
                Do you notice the dodge?
    Not yet did the Glugs, nor the Knight, Sir Stodge.

In the following Summer the Ogs came back
    With a cargo of eight-day clocks,
And hand-painted screens, and sewing machines,
    And mangles, and scissors, and socks.
And they said, “For these excellent things we bring
    We are ready to take more stones;
                And in bricks or road-metal
                For goods you will settle
    Indented by your Mister Ghones.”
                Cried the Glugs praisingly,
                “Why how amazingly
    Smart of industrious Ghones!”

And the King said, “Hum,” and the Queen said, “Oo!
That curtain!    What a bee-ootiful blue!”
    But a Glug stood up with some very large ears,
    And said, “There is more in this thing than appears!
And we ought to be taxing those goods of the Ogs,
Or our industries soon will be gone to the dogs.”
    And the King said, “Bosh!    You’re un-Gluggish and rude!”
    And the Queen said, “What an absurd attitude!”
Then the Glugs cried, “Down with political quacks!
How did our grandpas look at a tax?”
    So the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book.
    “No tax,” said he, “wherever I look.”
Then they fined the Glug with the prominent ears
For being old-fashioned by several years;
    And the Ogs went home with the stones, full-steam.
                Did you notice the scheme?
    Nor yet did the Glugs in their dreamiest dreams.

Then every month to the land of the Gosh
    The Ogs, they continued to come,
With buttons and hooks, and medical books,
    And rotary engines, and rum,
Large cases with labels, occasional tables,
    Hair tonic and fiddles and ’phones;
And the Glugs, while concealing their joy in the dealing,
    Paid promptly in nothing but stones.
                Why, it was screamingly
                Laughable, seemingly—-
    Asking for nothing but stones!

And the King said, “Haw!” and the Queen said, “Oh!
Our drawing-room now is a heavenly show
    Of large overmantels, and whatnots, and chairs,
    And a statue of Splosh at the head of the stairs!”
But a Glug stood up with a cast in his eye,
And he said, “Far too many baubles we buy;
    With all the Gosh factories closing their doors,
    And importers’ warehouses lining our shores.”
But the Glugs cried, “Down with such meddlesome fools!
What did our grandpas lay down in their rules?”
    And the Knight, Sir Stodge, he opened his Book:
    “To Cheapness,” he said, “was the road they took.”
Then every Glug who was not too fat
Turned seventeen handsprings, and jumped on his hat.
    They fined the Glug with the cast in his eye
    For looking both ways—which he did not deny—
And for having no visible precedent, which
Is a crime in the poor and a fault in the rich.

So the Glugs continued, with greed and glee,
To buy cheap clothing, and pills, and tea;
    Till every Glug in the land of Gosh
    Owned three clean shirts and a fourth in the wash.
But they all grew idle, and fond of ease,
And easy to swindle, and hard to please;
    And the voice of Joi was a lonely voice,
    When he railed at Gosh for its foolish choice.
But the great King grinned, and the good Queen gushed,
As the goods of the Ogs were madly rushed.
    And the Knight, Sir Stodge, with a wave of his hand,
    Declared it a happy and prosperous land.