Posts Tagged With: Walter E. Doherty

Ancient lost Longfellow manuscript found deals with Wolfe By Walter E. Doherty


By the shores of Hudson River,
By the shining Big-wet-Water,
Stood the Brownstone of Neronis,
Father of the Orchids, Neronis.
Dark behind it rose the city,
Rose the black and gloomy buildings,
Rose the towers bright lights upon them;
Bright before them lay the brownstone
Beat the clear and littered streets,
Beat the shining Big-wet-Water.
There the portly old Neronis
Pontificated to his Archie,
Preaching of the records germane,
Germination record keeping.
Who is this, that lights the brownstone?
With his great eyes lights the brownstone?
Many things Neronis taught him
Of the solving mysteries not of heaven;

At the door on summer evenings,
Sat the Archie watching, listening;
To the whispering of the taxis,
To the rushing of the waters,
Waiting for the sounds of clients
Wishing for the sounds of clients
Wanting for the rush of clients
Coming cash-rich to replenish
Replenish funds so now diminished
Since the Tax Man last he Cometh.

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Middle English Wolfian Text By Walter E. Doherty

[Middle English fragment of Early Wolfe
Case Recently Discovered in Stout’s Files;
probably an ancestor of the present Wolfe,
but then we know he doesn’t age.]

Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote
Wolfes droghte with bier hath quenched to the rote,
And bathed every orchid in swich liquor
so as to shew in every lovely flour;
Whan Fritz Brenner eek with his swete spice
Inspired hath in every pot ‘n’ potice
The tendre croppes boiling in a stewwe
and smale fowles waiting two by two.
Than longen folk to goon on pilgramages
To that fierce Wolfe, wisest of the sages,
that holy happy master for to seke
To helpen them who at heart are seke.

Bifel that, in that season on a day
In Booklyn at the tabard as I lay
Redy to wenden to seke his witful aide
To Wolfe I wenten mine case to pleaid.
At night was come in-to the brownston place
of muther foule I broghte myine case.
The goodman Goodwin tolle me not to come
lest all the funds of Fraunce I coulde brung,
But naytheless, whyl I had time and space
I grabbed mine chance to make my case.
Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun,
to telle yow all, in good season,
as to why I broghte myselfe to thisse state
what murther was it sorely test’d my fate.

A maid there was, and that a worthy quean
that fro the tyme that she first bigeen
to grow, she was the veri mage of chivalrye
And now one was who loveth here more thanne me.
But coldly struck doun and kilt before hir prime
I dearly wont to have aveng’d this crime.

Goodman Goodwin beforth bebroughte me
To Wolfe the master for to very see
And tense in th’ office ’twas that night:
The Tax man had cometh, and muckle bright
gold was gone to support the goberment
And Wolfes wit was wondrous awful spent!

[the fragment runs out here, but it appears
that Wolfe was in a foul mood, and probably
wouldn’t take the case.]

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Dinner at Wolfe’s, or JabberWolfey By Walter Doherty

‘Twas Brillat, and the Savarin
did toil and trouble at the stove
Escoffier was baking raths
as well as a borogrove.

“Prepare that Caesarean bull,
those horns that pierce, those hooves that toss;
Prepare the Turkey, stuffed and full
and topped with bearnaise sauce!”

He took his Knife and fork in hand:
long time bullish beef he sought–
so rested he by the big pantry,
of seasonings he thought.

And as in stuffed-ish thought he stewed,
the bull’s brought in; ’twas all a-flame,
flambe’d–it was a hot, fine food;
it bubbled as it came.

One, two! One, two! And through and through;
the knife and fork went snicker-snack!
Then he was fed, but then, ’tis said,
for seconds, went galumphing back.

“And have I slain the Caesar’s Bull?
with clams and figs and hams of pigs
O foods galore, and meals I adore!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas Brillat and did Savarin
still toil and trouble at the stove,
And Fritz from ear to ear with grin
was basking in the glow!

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A Visit From The Fuzz By Brian “Have Clemency–No More!” With Addendum By Walter E. Doherty

Twas five minutes to orchids, and all through the ‘Stone
Nero Wolfe was a bellowing, “Leave me alone!”
Propositions proposed by yours truly who’d dared
Were rejected by Nero who hadn’t much cared
For the notion of working when brackets went up;
As long as the balance allowed him to sup;
And Fritz in the kitchen and Theo above
Had just settled down to their labors of love–
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the front door I ran like an ass,
And peered through the door’s one-way panel of glass.
The sun, and the afternoon shadows that droop,
Allowed me to take in the cop on the stoop;
When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But a red-faced detective who rose from the rear
With a look in his eyes as if thrown from a flamer,
I knew in an moment that it must be Cramer.
More rapid than subways his curses they came,
And he screamed and he shouted and called us by name:
“Now, Wolfe! hey now, Goodwin! now, Horstmann and Brenner!
I’ve got this here warrant and I wanna enner!
You can do it the easy way or you can clown,
But if it’s the latter, I’ll haul you downtown!”
Unlike leaves that when met with a hurricane fly,
I prefer not to hurry, I wait for the eye;
So up to the greenhouse his curses they flew,
And I stood there grinning, and his anger grew.
And then in a twinkling, I heard from behind,
The creaky old Otis was starting to grind,
As I twisted my bod and was turning around,
I beheld the large form of my boss–it was round.
He was dressed in a yellow shirt, brown was his suit,
Folks, I have to admit, he was really a beaut!
And he moved rather quickly for someone so large,
It was more like a glide as opposed to a charge.
His eyes–how they blazed; his creases, how wary!
When Nero had wanted to, he could look scary!
His thin little lips were drawn up in a line,
And I counted the rolls on his chin–there were nine!
He had a broad face, and his voice, could he bellow!
He wasn’t so tall as much wide as a cello.
He was chubby and plump, a right grouchy old cuss,
And I knew he had come down because of the fuss:
He gave me an eighth of an inch type of nod,
Which for him is a violent movement of bod;
He spoke not a word, but went straight for the door,
And it opened two inches and not an inch more;
And he said, “For a straight jacket, you should be fitted.
Whenever you come here, you won’t be admitted!”
He started to close it, the warrant came to,
But it caught the front edge and it didn’t get through,
And it hangs on the door and it has the whole night,
And Wolfe said, “He’s a bungler–picking a fight!”


Cramer put his thumb to his nose and he wiggled a finger
And disappeared up the street where he did not wish to linger.
And he said under his breath as he strode out of sight
“God *bless* you, Wolfe, and *don’t* have a good night.”

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Wolfe Detective Agency Commercial – By Walt Doherty

NW: NW – Telephone exchanges – Call Us, Don’t Be Afraid, You Can Call Us . . . .

Need Help?
Got questions you need answered?
Have an unsolved murder on your hands?

Don’t despair! Just call 1-800-Nero Wolfe

(Ask for Archie!)

[Music swells up, and we hear in the background:]

If you’re feelin’ sad and lonely
There’s a service you can render
Tell the truth to just us only
We can solve your case and end ‘er.


Call us, don’t be afraid, you can call us
Maybe it’s late but just call us
Tell us and we’ll investigate.

When it seems your friends desert you
There’s somebody on your floor dead,you
are the only who never hurt him
Now it’s charged that it’s you that killed ‘im.


Now don’t forget us ’cause if you let us
We will always help you out
You’ve got to trust us, that’s how it must be
All you do is pay a “small” fee.


If you call we’ll be right with you
Saul, Orrie, Fred or Archie will protect you,
Take our word that we will rescue
Just write that check and Wolfe will save you.

Remember the number is Beachwood 4 – 5 . . . .
oops, wait a minute:

Just call 1-800-Nero Wolfe

That’s 1-800 — 6376 96533
(Remember, Ask for Archie!)

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