Eduard Charlemont, Austrian
“Well Harriet, It Appears My Services Won’t Be Needed Around Here Anymore. Master Winthorpe Has Gone and Bought Himself One of Those New-Fangled Alarm Clocks,” 1889
Oil on panel
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Info, or perhaps links that point to more info, about this artist can be found here (archived if necessary), here, here, here (if truncated, can be read in full for free on Fridays), here, and here (Note [2] on page 6 explains why an earlier here webpage, unless it’s been corrected, has his birthplace wrong), perhaps in addition to what’s in his Wikipedia page.
/// Hedwig poured out a drink for the drummer.
They’d been flirting since meeting last summer
when the kitchen staff stayed
late to sing while he played.
Hedwig showed him she’s more of a hummer.
/// As a joyous prelude to romancing
Hedwig loved when a man took her dancing.
But this drummer’s unique
in his drumming technique.
His Bolero-like beat is entrancing.
/// When Herr Tromler was free he would come
to her kitchen along with his drum.
She’d serve glasses of wine
which kept him feeling fine.
Before long Tromler’s senses were numb.
/// He’s a large man, but it is a fable
that at holding strong drink, he’s more able.
Hedwig switched to spiced rum
and then, beating his drum,
went and drank Tromler under the table.
/// In that kitchen were copper pots clanging,
and the noise of the head cook haranguing.
Amid all that discussion,
‘neath one table— percussion.
A “drumbeat” caused by rhythmical banging.
/// Tromler slowly got back on his feet.
He was feeling exhausted and beat.
Hedwig straightened her clothes
as she, too, slowly rose.
Then she found them some drumsticks to eat.
/// Tromler had a thought, scary and wild.
When he shared it with Hedwig, she smiled.
“Kids? We won’t be stuck with ‘em.
There a method called ‘rhythm’
which ensures that I won’t be ‘with child.’”
/// Nine months later the drummer would meet
their new son; very loud, though petite.
He looked like a turkey.
His cries? Herky-jerky.
They both sensed that he’d grow up off-beat.