The Jumble Book of Rhymes: Recited by the Jumbler

In Short

This book is a collection of humorous and sentimental poems written from the perspective of "The Jumbler," a persona who embraces the mundane, the romantic, and the domestic with a wink. Originally published in 1919, the poems reflect the mood of a post-war era, oscillating between domestic advice, playful teasing of social conventions, and a genuine, if bashful, devotion to "The One and the Only." It has remained a curious artifact of its time, valued for its warm, colloquial voice and its refusal to take the "serious" business of life too seriously.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book follows the Jumbler as he moves through various phases of life, starting with his own self-admitted flaws and introspections. He begins by acknowledging his status as an imperfect rhymer, comparing himself to a horse that refuses to walk with dignity when he wants to perform. This sets the stage for a series of observations about the "World, Flesh, and Devil," where he admits to being a bit of a slacker who prefers to give thanks for the small mercies of life rather than dwell on burdens.

As the book progresses, the Jumbler shifts his focus toward his romantic life. He moves from playful, cynical advice about courtship—advising women on how to hook a husband and men on how to feed them "taffy"—to a sincere, focused devotion to a single woman. He describes his struggle with the "fickleness" of his past and his eventual surrender to a love that makes all previous attachments seem like mere shadows. This section is marked by a transition from the "Realm of Dreams," where he keeps his love safely abstract, to the reality of commitment, where he recognizes that a true, real love is worth more than any fantasy.

Interspersed with these personal reflections are commentaries on the social expectations of the day. He rails against the "Pollyanna" cult of forced, artificial cheerfulness, arguing that a man has a right to his own moods and grumpiness. He moves through the pressures of the draft and the war, offering poems that balance the gravity of duty with a self-deprecating look at his own brief, ineffective military career. He concludes this middle portion by finding comfort in the simple routines of home, including the humorous chaos of raising children and the domestic trials of modern life.

The final arc of the collection brings the Jumbler into a quieter space, reflecting on the passage of time. He mourns the loss of his "Buster Boy," who has grown up too quickly, and he offers a series of nursery rhymes for children, showing a tender side that contrasts with his earlier cynicism. He finishes with a reflection on the nature of "missing" someone, ultimately landing on the hope that his own longing will be reciprocated by a kiss. The book ends not with a grand statement, but with a quiet, lingering sentiment, a reminder that the small, human connections are the things that keep life anchored.

How It Unfolds

The humble introduction The Jumbler sets his own expectations low, presenting his poems as "crippled" rhymes meant to break the monotony for those recovering in hospitals. He establishes a bond of camaraderie, asking the reader to blame the "nag" Pegasus rather than the rider for any lack of poetic polish.

The shift toward romance The tone turns from general musings to the specific pursuit of love, moving from cynical tips on how to catch a partner to a sincere declaration of devotion. He navigates the transition from being a man of "many loves" to a man defined by his singular loyalty to his "Queen."

The social critique The Jumbler takes a stand against the "Cheeruptimistic" expectations of the time, defending his right to be grumpy. He balances these serious-minded objections with lighter observations on everything from the "Dirty-Neck Policeman" to the dangers of shaving.

The domestic reality The collection shifts into the sphere of family life, addressing the realities of parenthood and the exhaustion of new fatherhood. He captures the bittersweet feeling of watching a child grow up, blending humor with a touch of melancholy.

The final reflection The book concludes by returning to the theme of longing and the simple, human desire for connection. He leaves the reader with a final, gentle poem about missing his loved one, closing the loop on his journey from a wandering, introspective bachelor to a man centered on his home.

The People

The Jumbler is the central, guiding voice of the book. He is a self-described "slacker" who finds beauty in the ordinary and comedy in his own failures. He wants to be a "bigger, better man," yet he is constantly tripped up by his own indecisiveness and his tendency to "cut off his Roman nose to spite his ugly face." He ends up not as a hero, but as a recognizable, human figure who has traded his cynicism for a quiet, focused life.

The Queen, or his "Little House-keeper," stands as the primary catalyst for his change. She is the object of his "one and only" love, the person who transforms his perspective from polyamorous, drifting interest to singular devotion. While she is rarely given a voice of her own, her influence is the gravitational center of the book; she is the reason the Jumbler finally decides to "settle."

Then there is the cast of recurring archetypes—Damfino Jones, the man who can never make a decision; Silent Bill, who is only silent when he is around the narrator; and the "Dirty-Neck Policeman," who serves as the mythical bogeyman of childhood. These figures act as foils to the Jumbler, highlighting his own struggle to be decisive and honest in a world that often demands a mask of perfection.

In Its Own Voice

The Jumbler often uses his own life as the primary source of material, frequently highlighting the discrepancy between his intentions and his actions.

I see the right, yet do the wrong-- This much too frequently.

(From "Myself vs. Me," where the author acknowledges his daily internal struggles.)

He also captures the specific, slightly absurd domestic frustrations that define his daily existence.

I try to read--but really, what's the use? You'd think, I swear, 'twas Bedlam broken loose; A scream! And then I hear, "Oh mercy! Ouch! My ear! I surely cannot stand all this abuse!

(From "The Evening Bath," describing the chaotic, noisy reality of his neighbor's apartment.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the "Better Self" found through human connection rather than rigid social performance. The Jumbler questions whether the "Pollyanna" demand for constant, superficial happiness is actually healthy, advocating instead for the right to be authentic—grief, grumpiness, and all. He argues that happiness isn't found in the grand, orthodox doctrines of the "pulpiteers," but in the small, daily act of smiling and being present with those we love. It is a quiet plea for the value of the ordinary and a defense of the idea that we can find our way to "Heaven" by simply being honest with ourselves and kind to one another.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the gentle, self-deprecating humor of early 20th-century American essayists will find a familiar friend in the Jumbler. It feels like a private diary opened up for the world—the kind of book you might find in an attic, filled with the warmth of a bygone era. It is not a masterpiece of high literature; it is deliberately messy, occasionally repetitive, and deeply rooted in the slang and social attitudes of 1919.

The challenges for a modern reader are the period-specific references and the occasional, outdated attitudes toward domestic roles. You will encounter the casual, patronizing language of the time regarding "wimmin" and "chilluns," which serves as a stark reminder of the social landscape in which the author lived. However, if you can look past those dated trappings, you will find a voice that remains remarkably relatable. The book persists because it isn't trying to change the world; it is only trying to make sense of one man’s small, occasionally difficult, and ultimately loving life. It stays with you not for its brilliance, but for its honesty—its admission that even the most "jumbled" among us can find a sense of peace by simply showing up and doing our bit.