This country is extremely flat, Just like your father's head, and were It not for dykes and things like that There would not be much country there, For, if these banks should broken be, What now is land would soon be sea.
So, any child who glory seeks, And in a dyke observes a hole, Must hold his finger there for weeks, And keep the water from its goal, Until the local plumbers come, Or other persons who can plumb.
The Hollanders have somehow got The name of Dutch (why, goodness knows! ), But Mrs. Hollander is not A 'duchess' as you might suppose; Mynheer Von Vanderpump is much More used to style her his 'Old Dutch.'
Their cities' names are somewhat odd, But much in vogue with golfing men Who miss a 'put' or slice a sod, (Whose thoughts I would not dare to pen), 'Oh, Rotterdam! ' they can exclaim, And blamelessly resume the game.
The Dutchman's dress is very neat; He minds his little flock of goats In cotton blouse, and on his feet He dons a pair of wooden boats. (He evidently does not trust Those dykes I mentioned not to bust).
He has the reputation too Of being what is known as 'slim,' Which merely means he does to you What you had hoped to do to him; He has a business head, that's all, And takes some beating, does Oom Paul.
_MORAL_
Avoid a country where the sea May any day drop in to tea, Rememb'ring that, at golf, one touch Of bunker makes the whole world Dutch!
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