George Elephant was unpretentious man,
A modest figure, spectacles on face.
He never did complain of his unusual name,
It was his choice to keep the same
And never to exchange it for a better name,
As did the owners of unfortunate names.
He was ridiculed in his college class,
Called by the names of animals
Both known and yet unknown by us.
All were playing tricks on him
And though he prided not in name of his
He bore those jests with much disdain
And never would concede to change his name.
When marrying he hoped, alas, in vain
It would make easier to bear strain,
But Jane, not ever minding her new name
Ridiculed him as much, and did exactly same
By mentioning his funny name
At any proper chance and any time of day.
So when he came to station and confessed
That he had killed his wife and now she's dead,
The case seemed obvious to them
With no defense to help him out of mess.
But for the lawyer of good fame
He would have pleaded much but all in vain.
When in a quest for facts of crime
His lawyer found with great surprise
About misery he was condemned to such
Because of mere name and nothing much,
And how ridiculed he had been by dear wife,
Sir Macintosh put forward a defense
Of madness act, by stressing that in fact
George Elephant was not in proper mind,
And doctors in defense corroborated that
By saying that his mind was quite deranged
With constant jokes related to his name.
George could have easily gone out of his mind
By the derisions of his most beloved wife,
That he no longer could control his acts,
This seemed to be quite plausible advice.
So George was found not guilty of the crime
Of murder of first class, and he was cleared thus,
His verdict was to serve just seven years,
But by that time his case caused interest to rise,
Voices in public were heard outloud
Denouncing mockery of names
Producing such objectionable fame.
Doctors wrote articles, so in the end
George’s sentence was brought down
To mere two more years in his cell.
And when he served his time and was free man,
He had a visitor, a priest with mind inclined
To help relieve his soul of burden of the crime.
And when the priest asked him to speak outright,
To tell him in his words the history of crime,
For though his mind was in a mess that time
It still was crime, no man could possibly deny.
To question: “What was motive of your crime?”
Was George’s sincere answer:“Nothing much,
I was in love with just another one.”