by
Anonymous + +
We’ll begin
with box, and the plural is boxes,
But the
plural of ox should be oxen, not oxes.
Then one
fowl is goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the
plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find
a lone mouse or a whole lot of mice,
But the
plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the
plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn’t
the plural of pan be pen?
The cow in the plural may be cows or kine,
But the
plural of vow is vows, not vine.
And I speak
of a foot, and you show me your feet,
But I give a
boot . . . would a pair be beet?
If one is a tooth, and a whole set is teeth,
Why shouldn’t
the plural of booth be beeth?
If the
singular is this, and the plural is these,
Why shouldn’t
the plural of kiss be kese?
Then one may
be that, and three be those,
Yet the
plural of hat would never be hose.
We speak of
a brother, and also of brethren,
But though
we say mother, we never say methren.
The
masculine pronouns are he, his, and him,
But imagine
the feminine she, shis, and shim.
So our
English, I think you will agree,
Is the
trickiest language you ever did see.
The English Lesson (version two)
Now if mouse in the plural should
be, and is, mice,
Then house in the plural, of
course, should be hice,
And grouse should be grice
and spouse should be spice
And by the same token should blouse
become blice.
And consider the goose with its
plural of geese;
Then a double caboose should be
called a cabeese,
And noose should be neese
and moose should be meese
And if mama’s papoose should be
twins, it’s papeese.
Then if one thing is that, while
some more is called those,
Then more than one hat, I assume,
would be hose,
And gnat would be gnose and pat
would be pose,
And likewise the plural of rat
would be rose.
The English Lesson (version three)
I take it
you already know
of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble,
but not you
on hiccough, through, slough, and though.
Well done!
And now you wish, perhaps
To learn of
less familiar traps?
Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks
like beard and sounds like bird.
And dead; it’s said like bed, not bead!
For goodness
sake, don’t call it deed!
Watch out
for meat and great and threat,
(They rhyme
with suite and straight and debt)
A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother.
And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,
And then
there’s dose and rose and lose—
Just look
them up—and goose and choose,
And cork and work and card and ward
And font and front and word and sword.
And do and go, then thwart and cart.
Come, come,
I’ve hardly made a start.
A dreadful
language: Why, man alive,
I’d learned
to talk when I was five.
And yet to
write it, the more I tried,
I hadn’t
learned it at fifty-five.
And yet to write it, the more I try,
I’ll not learn how ’til the day I die.
Versions Four and Five