Cruwwelpeter
Obscure German librettist Otto Büchstein wrote this book of cautionary tales about what happens to children who misbehave with charges (Geschäftsanteilsverpfändung). The single remaining volume — it may be the only one printed in the first place, as a matter of fact — was discovered whilst clearing out a Schuldscheine warehouse in Hannover.
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The complete works of Otto Büchstein
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Cruwwelpeter and similar burlesques have thrown a long, nervous shadow over the practice of banking law, though contemporary thought-leaders tend to regard them as needlessly violent, prejudiced and unkind to poor legal eagles who we all recognise now suffer from all kinds of mental frailties, burnout and whingery and simply don’t deserve everyone to be so mean to them.
Büchstein, widely regarded as a talentless hack, has also been accused of ripping the whole concept off from Heinrich Hoffman’s better known Struwwelpeter, to which it certainly bears a striking resemblance.
The book catalogues a series of grim mishaps befalling those kinds of obstreperous children who would interfere with pledges, collateral, customary liens and the proper segregation of client assets. Tales include:
- Foolish Harriet, who played with duration mismatches and burned herself to death.
- Johnny Head-in-Air, who forgot to file a Slavenburg and was struck off the wharf and floated away from the legal industry, to become a geography teacher, after a failed attempt at acting.
- Fidgety Philip amended his security package and rendered it void for want of consideration.
- Low-energy Lionel, who didn’t like having to read all those NDAs so founded a legaltech startup.
And, most gruesomely of all, there was the story of Samuel, little “Nick-a-Fund”, who — well, as you will see as you read it — bears a remarkable, if heavily disclaimed, resemblance to a naughty child of recent times.
The Story of Little Nick-a-Fund
One day Mother said, “Samuel dear,
I must go out and leave you here.
But, ‘mind your clients’ is what I say:
Don’t use their cash while I’m away.
The great tall regulator comes
To boys who nick their clients’ funds;
And ’ere they dream what he’s about,
He takes his great big baton out,
And bops and carts them off, toute suite —
That’s what happens to boys who cheat.”
Mother had scarcely turned her back,
Sam took the lot: Alack! Alack!
The door flew open, in he ran,
That great, red-legged enforcer-man!
Oh! Children, see! The bopper’s come
And caught our dopey Nick-a-Fund.
Bonk! Bonk! Bonk! The truncheon goes;
And Samuel cries out “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Bonk! Bonk! Bonk! It goes so fast,
Both Sam’s wrists in cuffs at last!
Ma posts bail, and there Sam stands,
He looks quite sad. He shows his hands;
“Ah!” said Mother, “I knew they’d come
For naughty little Nick-a-Fund.”
Now obedient children, wish to soon —
To hold for dear life to the moon,
And you may lose what little sum
You took from bank of Dad and Mum:
They pay no interest nor respects
To those who punt on FTX.