While recently visiting my daughter’s house to celebrate the high school graduation of my twin granddaughters, I mentioned Gelett Burgess’ collection of poems for children, “Goops and How to Be Them.” Instantly the two graduates, a couple of their siblings, and my daughter chanted in unison that book’s first poem, “Table Manners.”

The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their broth on the table cloth—
Oh, they lead disgusting lives!
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I’m glad that I
Am not a Goop—are you?

“Goops and How to Be Them: A Manual of Manners for Polite Infants” first appeared in bookshops in 1900. Goops, a word Burgess invented, were bald, bubble-headed, messy creatures who violated common standards of etiquette and morality. The book remains in print and can be found online.

And yes, it has some lessons for today – and not just for children.

Look at that poem my grandkids knew and recited: “The Goops are gluttonous and rude / They gug and grumble with their food….” The conclusions are obvious. Whether you’re enjoying a formal meal or a burger and fries at McDonald’s, avoid gunning through the food like a machine. Practice basic table manners, Burgess tells us. Enjoy the meal and the conversation.

In “Memory” Burgess offers advice that applies to our digital age, particularly while at the office. Here’s the last half of the poem:

My teacher told me yesterday
‘Work when you work; Play when you play!’
When I am playing with my toys
I am the busiest of boys;
But when I study or I work
I’m ’fraid I am inclined to shirk!

Everywhere I go these days – the grocery store, the coffee shop, the library – I see employees on their phones handling personal business or entertaining themselves. “Work when you work” reminds us to avoid the phone whether in school or on the job. Not only are you cheating your employer or teacher, you’re also cheating yourself.

The second stanza of “Politeness,” reminds us that simple manners grease the skids of everyday life, making things run more smoothly:

And both would use such words as these:
‘Excuse me, Sir,’ and ‘If you please;’
Not only just at home, you know,
But everywhere that they should go.

The poem “Willy” deserves full quotation:

Willy broke the window-
pane.
Willy spilled the ink.
Willy left the water-pipe
Running in the sink!

Did his mother punish him?
No! I’ll tell you why.
Willy, he owned up to it,
And didn’t tell a lie!

Willy told his mother
Before she found it out
He said, ‘I am so sorry!’
    She said, ‘I have no doubt!’

“He owned up to it / And didn’t tell a lie.” Few public figures today, especially our politicians, own up to lies they’ve told or offer an apology when their actions prove disastrous. Time and truth, for instance, have revealed the deceptions and fallacies foisted on the public during Covid, yet no public officials resigned when their policies proved erroneous or apologized for the hysteria they created.

The last poem, “Cheerfulness,” brings us to another piece often missing in the puzzle that is our culture:

Now the book is finished
(It’s too long by half,
Mere didactic chaff),
One more rule won’t hurt you:
When you practice Virtue,
Do it with a laugh!

At one time or another, and more likely many times, we’ve all left a store, restaurant, or some government agency ruffled by rude or indifferent service. Many of us have worked in establishments like these, feeling the sting of rude customers.

Here Burgess reminds us that cheerfulness is an integral part of the virtues. Like all virtues, it must be practiced to become habitual. It means looking on the bright side. It’s a gift we give others, even when times are hard for us. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians, “God loves a cheerful giver.” In the case of manners and civility, the gift we give is ourselves.

In his introduction, Burgess writes of Goops:

For in Rudeness they’re Precocious,
They’re Atrocious, they’re Ferocious!
Yet you’ll learn, if you are Bright,
Politeness from the Impolite.
When you’ve finished with the Book,
Ask yourself, upon the Spot,
Are you Goop, or are you Not?
For, although it’s Fun to see them,
It is TERRIBLE to Be them!

Only in the pages of “Goops and How to Be Them” is it “fun to see them.” In real life, almost never. On the jacket flap of the book I own, writer and critic May Lamberton Becker offered a brief positive review of the book, including this thought: “The Goop is that lazy lower self against which the higher, stronger self rallies in proper pride.”

If you find yourself acting snarky without cause, looking into your phone screen instead of your history textbook, or eating as if you were at a trough rather than at a table, summon up that stronger self and beat down the Goop within.

What was true in 1900 is true today: Don’t be a Goop.

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This article was made possible by The Fred & Rheta Skelton Center for Cultural Renewal.

Image credit: Pexels