Perverted Proverbs: A Manual of Immorals for the Many — 'A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss.'

"_A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss.

_" I never understood, I own, What anybody (with a soul) Could mean by offering a Stone This needless warning not to Roll;

And what inducement there can be To gather Moss I fail to see.

I'd sooner gather anything, Like primroses, or news perhaps, Or even wool (when suffering A momentary mental lapse);

But could forego my share of moss, Nor ever realize the loss.

'Tis a botanical disease, And worthy of remark as such;

Lending a dignity to trees, To ruins a romantic touch.

A timely adjunct, I've no doubt, But not worth writing home about.

Of all the Stones I ever met, In calm repose upon the ground, I really never found one yet With a desire to roll around;

Theirs is a stationary role,-- (A joke,--and feeble on the whole).

But, if I were a stone, I swear I'd sooner move and view the World Than sit and grow the greenest hair That ever Nature combed and curled.

I see no single saving grace In being known as "Mossyface!"

Instead, I might prove useful for A weapon in the hand of Crime, A paperweight, a milestone, or A missile at Election time;

In each capacity I could Do quite incalculable good.

When well directed from the Pit, I might promote a welcome death, If fortunate enough to hit Some budding Hamlet or Macbeth, Who twice each day the playhouse fills,-- (For further Notice See Small Bills).

At concerts, too, if you prefer, I could prevent your growing deaf, By silencing the amateur Before she reached that upper F. ;

Or else, in lieu of half-a-brick, Restrain some local Kubelik.

Then, human stones, take my advice, (As you should always do, indeed);

This proverb may be very nice, But don't you pay it any heed, And, tho' you make the critics cross, Roll on, and never mind the moss.