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Five Minute Stories

Chapter 43: Icthyology by Laura E. Richards
By Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
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About This Book

A lively collection of short stories and poems for children, offering simple domestic scenes, playful rhymes, brief narratives, and light moral lessons. Pieces range from tender portraits of family life and child play to fanciful nonsense verses, seasonal and holiday sketches, animal vignettes, and concise character studies, often keyed to children's imagination and daily activities. Language is straightforward and rhythmic, with songs and jingles interspersed among short tales; many pieces aim to charm or amuse while gently reinforcing kindness, curiosity, and good manners. Illustrations accompany several items, enhancing the accessible tone and appeal to young readers.

Icthyology by Laura E. Richards

ICTHYOLOGY
BY LAURA E. RICHARDS
I, John Dory, tell the story of the night
When the Pinna gave a dinner to the Trout.
It was surely (yet not purely) a delight,
Though attended,— ay, and ended, with a rout.
Every fish ’un of condition sure was there,
From the Cuttle down to little Tommy Spratt;
From the Urchin who was perchin’ on the stair,
To the Tunny in his funny beaver hat.









 
The Sword-fish, like the lord-fish that he is,
Brought the Pilot, saying “My lot shall be yours!”
The Guffer tried to huff her with a quiz,
But the Gurnet looked so stern, it made him pause.
 
The Grayling was a-sailing through the dance,
And the Oyster from her cloister had come out;
And the Minnow with her fin, oh! did advance,
And the Flounder capered round her with the Pout.
 
When the Winkle, with a twinkle in his eye,
Led the Cod-fish (such an odd fish!) to the feast,
Cried the Mullet, “Oh! my gullet is so dry,
I could swallow half the hollow sea at least.”
 
The Frog-fish and the Dog-fish followed next,
And the Sturgeon was emergeon from his lair;
And the Herring by his bearing was perplexed,
But the Tinker, as a thinker, did not care.
 
The Cobbler,—such a gobbler as he was!
Why, the Blenny had not anything to eat!
And the Trunk-fish grew a drunk fish, just because
The Plaice there said the Dace there was so sweet.
 
The Torpedo said, “To feed, oh! is my joy;
Let me wallow, let me swallow at my will!”
Cried the Shark, then, “Here’s a lark, then! come, my boy,
Give a rouse, now! we’ll carouse now to our fill.”
 
The Dolphin was engulfin’ lager beer,
Though the Porgy said “How logy he will be.”
And the Scallop gave a wallop as they handed him a collop
And the Sculpin was a-gulpin’ of his tea,—deary me!
How that Sculpin was a-gulpin’ of his tea!
 
I, John Dory, to my glory be it said,
Took no part in such cavortin’ as above.
With the Sun-fish (ah! the one fish!) calm I fed,
And, grown bolder, softly told her of my love.
 
But the Conger cried “No longer shall this be!”
And the Trout now said “No doubt now it must end.”
Said the Tench, then, from his bench, then, “Count on me!”
And the Salmon cried “I am on hand, my friend.”
Then we cut on to each glutton as he swam,
And we hit them, and we bit them in the tail,
And the Lamprey struck the damp prey with a clam,
And the Goby made the foe be very pale.
The Gudgeon, not begrudgeon of his force,
Hit the Cunner quite a stunner on the head;
And the Mussel had a tussle with the Horse,
And the Whiting kept a-fighting till he bled.
The Carp, too, bold and sharp, too, joined our band,
On the Weaver, gay deceiver, did he spring,
And the Mack’rel laid the Pick’rel on the sand,
And the Stickle-back did tickle back the Ling.













We drove them, and we clove them to the gill,
We raced them and we chased them through the sea;
And the Scallop gave a wallop when we took away his collop,
But the Sculpin still was gulpin’ of his tea,—deary me!
How that Sculpin was a-gulpin’ of his tea!