There are not many sensationalist pieces of news in the
literary world these days, now that a hamster's skills have been recognised for
what they are - even though there will probably come a time when a Giraffe's
symmetry in poetical prose and an Elephant's musical composition will be
heralded as some great new discovery by mankind in general - but, this week, the
human world greeted with delight a new Rodent Laureate on the scene with
unspeakable glee.
Though America has long since acknowledged the
place of hamsters in present day society and even allowed the beloved Ganjette
to run as Presidential candidate, it appears that, here in England, a hamster's
ability is only starting to be acknowledged by the upper eschalons of society,
questions asked in the House of Commons by MPs at the bequest of large sums of
money and small stools provided in fast food restaurants (though McDonalds have
had these as a feature for many years).
This recognition, then, has resulted in the
world's first national Rodent Laureate, appointed to the Queen herself to sum up
the mood of the rodent population, to skilfully put words together to create
images and feelings that portray rodent life and to get paid for what they love
doing naturally.
The first hamster 'by Royal Appointment' is,
unsurprisingly, Biscuit, whose proud owner, Stephanie, was first to congratulate
her hamster on the position.
'He has been foremost in Rodent literature for
some months' she told the Rodent Weekly 'and we have secretly been having talks
with the Royal family to determine the settlement'
The undisclosed amount - believed to be a five
figure sum of sunflower seeds per week - will go towards the upkeep of the cage
and utilities needed to support such an occupation and position.
In celebration of the appointment, the Royal
family have released the following poem written by Biscuit.
THE LAST TEABAG IN
PARIS
The blockade of the Asian
ports made teabags rare in London
And brewing-bags were hard
to find in Harris
But intrepid rodents set themselves to find the final
box
Searching for the last teabag in Paris
They tried the Champs Elysees
but it was all to no avail
For the cafes simply hadn’t got a brew
And when they scurried round
the Arc they thought they’d soon discover
A tea bag - but they
failed to find a clue
For three long months they
searched in vain and touted for the tea
But no one offered, no one
seemed to care
And once, they thought they smelt that fragrance ling’ring on the
nose
Though the smell just seemed to vanish in thin
air
Then they heard the rumours
that at last there was a leaf
Located across town at Sacre Coeur
And though they scurried
fearlessly and got there through the rain
All they ended up was
getting soggy fur
Again they heard a rumour from
a source they thought was true
In the park in which you
find the Eiffel Tower
But being spring with blooming plants the report proved just a
hoax
For the smell was just a Himalayan
flower
Just as they’d given up all
hope and when their souls were lowest
A friendly stranger gave
them all a wink
He motioned with a bending finger that they should come
quick
And across the street they speedily all
slinked.
There behind the oak-clad
doors, their eyes beheld the site
Of ten thousand tons of
tea that reached the roof
And squeaking their approval they leapt and laughed out
loud
That they’d found the last supply - and this was
proof
So exiting the building, they
went back to their burrows
And were happy that his prompting they’d not
missed
But at
least they’d found the whereabouts (and now they could rest easy)
Of the final and
last teabag in all Paris
Ebony the Hamster writes
for the Rodent Weekly.
This article appears courtesy of that paper.
Ganjette's presidential web site can be found here
