Poetry, Tea & Nonsense
Unkydoodle and Jollapin
By: Laura E. Richards
Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee!
How does the Emperor take his tea?
He takes it with melons, he takes it with milk,
He takes it with syrup and sassafras silk.
He takes it without, he takes it within.
Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!
Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee!
How does the Cardinal take his tea?
He takes it in Latin, he takes it in Greek,
He takes it just seventy times in the week.
He takes it so strong that it makes him grin.
Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!
Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee!
How does the Admiral take his tea?
He takes it with splices, he takes it with spars,
He takes it with jokers and jolly jack tars.
And he stirs it round with a dolphin's fin.
Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!
Oh, Pillykin Willykin Winky Wee!
How does the President take his tea?
He takes it in bed, he takes it in school,
He takes it in Congress against the rule.
He takes it with brandy, and thinks it no sin.
Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!
President Theodore Roosevelt (1858-1919) writing to his son Kermit, August 26, 1905...
"...I read them Laura E. Richards' poems, including "How does the President take his tea?"
...They christened themselves Punkey Doodle and Jollapin, from the chorus of this, and immediately afterwards I played with them on Archie's bed. First I would toss Punkey Doodle (Quentin) on Jollapin (Archie) and tickle Jollapin while Punkey Doodle squalled and wiggled on top of him, and then reverse them and keep Punkey Doodle down by heaving Jollapin on him, while they both kicked and struggled until my shirt front looked very much the worse for wear.
You doubtless remember yourself how bad it was for me, when I was dressed for dinner, to play with all you scamps when you were little."
From Theodore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children, 1919
By: Laura E. Richards
Oh, Sally Simpson's picnic tea!
Oh, Sally Simpson's picnic tea!
I'll give my word,
You've never heard
Of such a jinking jollity.
Oh, Sally is a winsome girl.
Of all our playmates she's the pearl,
Her foot is light,
Her eyes are bright,
Her hair for very joy doth curl.
She bade us come at four, you see,
But oh, we all were there by three,
For there was none
Would lose e'en one
Half-minute of the revelry.
Each brought her basket in her hand
And wow! but some of them were grand!
With damson tarts,
And rounds and hearts
And plums as thick as they could stand.
The cups were china, sprigged with gold,
The plates were lovely to behold;
A pot of tin
The tea was in,
A crystal jug the cream did hold.
Then down we sat upon the grass,
And round and round the cups did pass;
Sweet Sally, she
Did pour the tea,
And wasn't she a dainty lass!
Now first we sat as still as still,
All sore afraid a drop to spill;
Each girl did take
Her slice of cake,
Nor dropped a crumb upon her frill.
But Sally with her merry chaff
Soon set us all at ease to laugh,
So chatting free
And merrily,
The smoking tea we down did quaff.
"Now, Sing" quoth Sally. "Sing a round!"
And straight rose up the cheerful sound.
"A boat, a boat!"
Away did float,
And waked the echoes all around.
And as we sang, we laughed to see
The birds hang twittering on the tree,
Shake wing and head,
As if they said,
"Do pray be still, and hark to me!"
"A dance! A dance!" cried Sally sweet.
Straight every girl was on her feet,
And hand in hand,
A joyous band,
We sang and circled gay and fleet.
But soon, alas! our nurses came,
And called us every one by name.
Now sad and slow
We homeward go;
And isn't it a dreadful shame!