How The Peaceful Aladdin Gave Way To His Madness

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His name was Aladdin.
  The clothes he was clad in
  Proclaimed him an Arab at sight,
  And he had for a chum
  An uncommonly rum
  Old afreet, six cubits in height.
  This person infernal,
  Who seemed so fraternal,
  At bottom was frankly a scamp:
  His future to sadden,
  He gave to Aladdin
  A wonderful magical lamp.

  A marvel he dubbed it.
  He said if one rubbed it
  One's wishes were done on the spot.
  Now what would you do
  Were it offered to you?
  Refuse it undoubtedly (not)!
  It's thus comprehensive
  With pleasure extensive
  Aladdin accepted the gift,
  And, by it befriended,
  Erected a splendid
  Château, with a bath and a lift!

  Not dreaming of malice,
  One year in his palace
  He led a luxurious life,
  Till his genius dread
  Put it into his head
  That he needed a beautiful wife.
  Responding to friction,
  The lamp this affliction
  At once for Aladdin secured;
  The latter, delighted,
  Imagined he sighted
  A future of quiet assured.

  When gladly he chose her,
  He didn't suppose her
  A philatelist, always agape
  For novelties, yet
  She had all of the set
  Of triangular stamps of the Cape.
  Some people malicious
  Proclaimed her Mauritius
  One-penny vermilion a sell.
  But that was all rot. It
  Was true she had got it,
  And the tuppenny blue one as well!

  Since thus she collected,
  As might be expected,
  She didn't for bric-à-brac care,
  So she traded the lamp
  For an Ecuador stamp
  That somebody told her was rare!
  This act served to madden
  The mind of Aladdin,
  But, 'spite of his impotent wrath,
  His manor-house vanished,
  To nothingness banished,
  And while he was taking a bath!

  The average Arab
  Is hard as a scarab
  When some one has wounded his pride,
  So he jumped up and down,
  With a cynical frown,
  On the face of his beautiful bride!
  He had picked up a cargo
  Of curious argot
  While living in Paris the gay;
  In the slang of that city
  He cried without pity:
  "Comme ça tu me fich'ras la paix!"

  The Moral: When stamps you're adept on
  Of risks you are reckless, and yet
  Beware! If your face is once stepped on,
  That's the last stamp you're likely to get!

© Guy Wetmore Carryl