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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Rhyme? And Reason?
+
+Author: Lewis Carroll
+
+Illustrator: Arthur B.  Frost
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2010 [EBook #33582]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYME? AND REASON? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RHYME? AND REASON?
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "UPON A BATTLEMENT." _See_ p. 30.]
+
+
+
+
+  RHYME?
+  AND REASON?
+
+
+  BY LEWIS CARROLL
+
+
+  _WITH SIXTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS_
+  BY ARTHUR B. FROST
+
+  _AND NINE_
+  BY HENRY HOLIDAY
+
+
+  I have had nor rhyme nor reason
+
+
+  _PRICE SEVEN SHILLINGS_
+  London
+  MACMILLAN AND CO.
+  1883
+  [_All Rights Reserved_]
+
+
+
+  London:
+  R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR
+  BREAD STREET HILL, E.C.
+
+
+
+
+  Inscribed to a dear Child:
+  in memory of golden summer hours
+  and whispers of a summer sea.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task,
+      Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well
+  Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask
+          The tale one loves to tell.
+
+  Rude scoffer of the seething outer strife,
+      Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright,
+  Deem, if thou wilt, such hours a waste of life,
+          Empty of all delight!
+
+  Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy
+      Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled;
+  Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy,
+          The heart-love of a child!
+
+  Away, fond thoughts, and vex my soul no more!
+      Work claims my wakeful nights, my busy days
+  Albeit bright memories of that sunlit shore
+          Yet haunt my dreaming gaze!
+
+
+
+
+[Of the following poems, ECHOES, A GAME OF FIVES, the last three of the
+FOUR RIDDLES, and FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET, are here published for the first
+time. The others have all appeared before, as have also the illustrations
+to THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK.]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                        PAGE
+
+  PHANTASMAGORIA, in Seven Cantos:--
+
+        I. The Trystyng                                    1
+
+       II. Hys Fyve Rules                                 10
+
+      III. Scarmoges                                      18
+
+       IV. Hys Nouryture                                  26
+
+        V. Byckerment                                     34
+
+       VI. Dyscomfyture                                   44
+
+      VII. Sad Souvenaunce                                53
+
+  ECHOES                                                  58
+
+  A SEA DIRGE                                             59
+
+  Y{E} CARPETTE KNYGHTE                                   64
+
+  HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING                                66
+
+  MELANCHOLETTA                                           78
+
+  A VALENTINE                                             84
+
+  THE THREE VOICES:--
+
+      The First Voice                                     87
+
+      The Second Voice                                    98
+
+      The Third Voice                                    109
+
+  T�MA CON VARIAZI�NI                                    118
+
+  A GAME OF FIVES                                        120
+
+  POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR                                123
+
+  THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK, an Agony in Eight Fits:--
+
+         I. THE LANDING                                  134
+
+        II. THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH                         142
+
+       III. THE BAKER'S TALE                             148
+
+        IV. THE HUNTING                                  153
+
+         V. THE BEAVER'S LESSON                          159
+
+        VI. THE BARRISTER'S DREAM                        167
+
+       VII. THE BANKER'S FATE                            173
+
+      VIII. THE VANISHING                                177
+
+  SIZE AND TEARS                                         181
+
+  ATALANTA IN CAMDEN TOWN                                186
+
+  THE LANG COORTIN'                                      190
+
+  FOUR RIDDLES                                           202
+
+  FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET                                   211
+
+
+
+
+PHANTASMAGORIA.
+
+
+CANTO I.
+
+The Trystyng.
+
+  One winter night, at half-past nine,
+      Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
+  I had come home, too late to dine,
+  And supper, with cigars and wine,
+      Was waiting in the study.
+
+  There was a strangeness in the room,
+      And Something white and wavy
+  Was standing near me in the gloom--
+  _I_ took it for the carpet-broom
+      Left by that careless slavey.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But presently the Thing began
+      To shiver and to sneeze:
+  On which I said "Come, come, my man!
+  That's a most inconsiderate plan.
+      Less noise there, if you please!"
+
+  "I've caught a cold," the Thing replies,
+      "Out there upon the landing."
+  I turned to look in some surprise,
+  And there, before my very eyes,
+      A little Ghost was standing!
+
+  He trembled when he caught my eye,
+      And got behind a chair.
+  "How came you here," I said, "and why?
+  I never saw a thing so shy.
+      Come out! Don't shiver there!"
+
+  He said "I'd gladly tell you how,
+      And also tell you why;
+  But" (here he gave a little bow)
+  "You're in so bad a temper now,
+      You'd think it all a lie.
+
+  "And as to being in a fright,
+      Allow me to remark
+  That Ghosts have just as good a right,
+  In every way, to fear the light,
+      As Men to fear the dark."
+
+  "No plea," said I, "can well excuse
+      Such cowardice in you:
+  For Ghosts can visit when they choose,
+  Whereas we Humans ca'n't refuse
+      To grant the interview."
+
+  He said "A flutter of alarm
+      Is not unnatural, is it?
+  I really feared you meant some harm:
+  But, now I see that you are calm,
+      Let me explain my visit.
+
+  "Houses are classed, I beg to state,
+      According to the number
+  Of Ghosts that they accommodate:
+  (The Tenant merely counts as _weight_,
+      With Coals and other lumber).
+
+  "This is a 'one-ghost' house, and you
+      When you arrived last summer,
+  May have remarked a Spectre who
+  Was doing all that Ghosts can do
+      To welcome the new-comer.
+
+  "In Villas this is always done--
+      However cheaply rented:
+  For, though of course there's less of fun
+  When there is only room for one,
+      Ghosts have to be contented.
+
+  "That Spectre left you on the Third--
+      Since then you've not been haunted:
+  For, as he never sent us word,
+  'Twas quite by accident we heard
+      That any one was wanted.
+
+  "A Spectre has first choice, by right,
+      In filling up a vacancy;
+  Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite--
+  If all these fail them, they invite
+      The nicest Ghoul that they can see.
+
+  "The Spectres said the place was low,
+      And that you kept bad wine:
+  So, as a Phantom had to go,
+  And I was first, of course, you know,
+      I couldn't well decline."
+
+  "No doubt," said I, "they settled who
+      Was fittest to be sent:
+  Yet still to choose a brat like you,
+  To haunt a man of forty-two,
+      Was no great compliment!"
+
+  "I'm not so young, Sir," he replied,
+      "As you might think. The fact is,
+  In caverns by the water-side,
+  And other places that I've tried,
+      I've had a lot of practice:
+
+  "But I have never taken yet
+      A strict domestic part,
+  And in my flurry I forget
+  The Five Good Rules of Etiquette
+      We have to know by heart."
+
+  My sympathies were warming fast
+      Towards the little fellow:
+  He was so utterly aghast
+  At having found a Man at last,
+      And looked so scared and yellow.
+
+[Illustration: "IN CAVERNS BY THE WATER-SIDE"]
+
+  "At least," I said, "I'm glad to find
+      A Ghost is not a _dumb_ thing!
+  But pray sit down: you'll feel inclined
+  (If, like myself, you have not dined)
+      To take a snack of something:
+
+  "Though, certainly, you don't appear
+      A thing to offer _food_ to!
+  And then I shall be glad to hear--
+  If you will say them loud and clear--
+      The Rules that you allude to."
+
+  "Thanks! You shall hear them by and by
+      This _is_ a piece of luck!"
+  "What may I offer you?" said I.
+  "Well, since you _are_ so kind, I'll try
+      A little bit of duck.
+
+  "_One_ slice! And may I ask you for
+      Another drop of gravy?"
+  I sat and looked at him in awe,
+  For certainly I never saw
+      A thing so white and wavy.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And still he seemed to grow more white,
+      More vapoury, and wavier--
+  Seen in the dim and flickering light,
+  As he proceeded to recite
+      His "Maxims of Behaviour."
+
+
+CANTO II.
+
+Hys Fyve Rules.
+
+  "My First--but don't suppose," he said,
+      "I'm setting you a riddle--
+  Is--if your Victim be in bed,
+  Don't touch the curtains at his head,
+      But take them in the middle,
+
+  "And wave them slowly in and out,
+      While drawing them asunder;
+  And in a minute's time, no doubt,
+  He'll raise his head and look about
+      With eyes of wrath and wonder.
+
+  "And here you must on no pretence
+      Make the first observation.
+  Wait for the Victim to commence:
+  No Ghost of any common sense
+      Begins a conversation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "If he should say '_How came you here?_'
+      (The way that _you_ began, Sir,)
+  In such a case your course is clear--
+  '_On the bat's back, my little dear!_'
+      Is the appropriate answer.
+
+  "If after this he says no more,
+      You'd best perhaps curtail your
+  Exertions--go and shake the door,
+  And then, if he begins to snore,
+      You'll know the thing's a failure.
+
+  "By day, if he should be alone--
+      At home or on a walk--
+  You merely give a hollow groan,
+  To indicate the kind of tone
+      In which you mean to talk.
+
+  "But if you find him with his friends,
+      The thing is rather harder.
+  In such a case success depends
+  On picking up some candle-ends,
+      Or butter, in the larder.
+
+  "With this you make a kind of slide
+      (It answers best with suet),
+  On which you must contrive to glide,
+  And swing yourself from side to side--
+      One soon learns how to do it.
+
+  "The Second tells us what is right
+      In ceremonious calls:--
+  '_First burn a blue or crimson light_'
+  (A thing I quite forgot to-night),
+      '_Then scratch the door or walls._'"
+
+[Illustration: "AND SWING YOURSELF FROM SIDE TO SIDE"]
+
+  I said "You'll visit _here_ no more,
+      If you attempt the Guy.
+  I'll have no bonfires on _my_ floor--
+  And, as for scratching at the door,
+      I'd like to see you try!"
+
+  "The Third was written to protect
+      The interests of the Victim,
+  And tells us, as I recollect,
+  _To treat him with a grave respect,
+      And not to contradict him_."
+
+  "That's plain," said I, "as Tare and Tret,
+      To any comprehension:
+  I only wish _some_ Ghosts I've met
+  Would not so _constantly_ forget
+      The maxim that you mention!"
+
+  "Perhaps," he said, "_you_ first transgressed
+      The laws of hospitality:
+  All Ghosts instinctively detest
+  The Man that fails to treat his guest
+      With proper cordiality.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "If you address a Ghost as 'Thing!'
+      Or strike him with a hatchet,
+  He is permitted by the King
+  To drop all _formal_ parleying--
+      And then you're _sure_ to catch it!
+
+  "The Fourth prohibits trespassing
+      Where other Ghosts are quartered:
+  And those convicted of the thing
+  (Unless when pardoned by the King)
+      Must instantly be slaughtered.
+
+  "That simply means 'be cut up small':
+      Ghosts soon unite anew:
+  The process scarcely hurts at all--
+  Not more than when _you're_ what you call
+      'Cut up' by a Review.
+
+  "The Fifth is one you may prefer
+      That I should quote entire:--
+  _The King must be addressed as 'Sir.'
+  This, from a simple courtier,
+      Is all the Laws require_:
+
+  "_But, should you wish to do the thing
+      With out-and-out politeness,
+  Accost him as 'My Goblin King!'
+  And always use, in answering,
+      The phrase 'Your Royal Whiteness!'_
+
+  "I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear,
+      After so much reciting:
+  So, if you don't object, my dear,
+  We'll try a glass of bitter beer--
+      I think it looks inviting."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO III.
+
+Scarmoges.
+
+  "And did you really walk," said I,
+      "On such a wretched night?
+  I always fancied Ghosts could fly--
+  If not exactly in the sky,
+      Yet at a fairish height."
+
+  "It's very well," said he, "for Kings
+      To soar above the earth:
+  But Phantoms often find that wings--
+  Like many other pleasant things--
+      Cost more than they are worth.
+
+  "Spectres of course are rich, and so
+      Can buy them from the Elves:
+  But _we_ prefer to keep below--
+  They're stupid company, you know.
+      For any but themselves:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "For, though they claim to be exempt
+      From pride, they treat a Phantom
+  As something quite beneath contempt--
+  Just as no Turkey ever dreamt
+      Of noticing a Bantam."
+
+  "They seem too proud," said I, "to go
+      To houses such as mine.
+  Pray, how did they contrive to know
+  So quickly that 'the place was low,'
+      And that I 'kept bad wine'?"
+
+  "Inspector Kobold came to you--"
+      The little Ghost began.
+  Here I broke in--"Inspector who?
+  Inspecting Ghosts is something new!
+      Explain yourself my man!"
+
+  "His name is Kobold," said my guest:
+      "One of the Spectre order:
+  You'll very often see him dressed
+  In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,
+      And a night-cap with a border.
+
+  "He tried the Brocken business first,
+      But caught a sort of chill;
+  So came to England to be nursed,
+  And here it took the form of _thirst_,
+      Which he complains of still.
+
+[Illustration: "AND HERE IT TOOK THE FORM OF _THIRST_"]
+
+  "Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,
+      Warms his old bones like nectar:
+  And as the inns, where it is found,
+  Are his especial hunting-ground,
+      We call him the _Inn-Spectre_."
+
+  I bore it--bore it like a man--
+      This agonizing witticism!
+  And nothing could be sweeter than
+  My temper, till the Ghost began
+      Some most provoking criticism.
+
+  "Cooks need not be indulged in waste;
+      Yet still you'd better teach them
+  Dishes should have _some sort_ of taste.
+  Pray, why are all the cruets placed
+      Where nobody can reach them?
+
+  "That man of yours will never earn
+      His living as a waiter!
+  Is that queer _thing_ supposed to burn?
+  (It's far too dismal a concern
+      To call a Moderator).
+
+  "The duck was tender, but the peas
+      Were very much too old:
+  And just remember, if you please,
+  The _next_ time you have toasted cheese,
+      Don't let them send it cold.
+
+  "You'd find the bread improved, I think,
+      By getting better flour:
+  And have you anything to drink
+  That looks a _little_ less like ink,
+      And isn't _quite_ so sour?"
+
+  Then, peering round with curious eyes,
+      He muttered "Goodness gracious!"
+  And so went on to criticise--
+  "Your room's an inconvenient size:
+      It's neither snug nor spacious.
+
+  "That narrow window, I expect,
+      Serves but to let the dusk in--"
+  "But please," said I, "to recollect
+  'Twas fashioned by an architect
+      Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!"
+
+  "I don't care who he was, Sir, or
+      On whom he pinned his faith!
+  Constructed by whatever law,
+  So poor a job I never saw,
+      As I'm a living Wraith!
+
+  "What a re-markable cigar!
+      How much are they a dozen?"
+  I growled "No matter what they are!
+  You're getting as familiar
+      As if you were my cousin!
+
+  "Now that's a thing _I will not stand_,
+      And so I tell you flat."
+  "Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!"
+  (Taking a bottle in his hand)
+      "I'll soon arrange for _that_!"
+
+  And here he took a careful aim,
+      And gaily cried "Here goes!"
+  I tried to dodge it as it came,
+  But somehow caught it, all the same,
+      Exactly on my nose.
+
+  And I remember nothing more
+      That I can clearly fix,
+  Till I was sitting on the floor,
+  Repeating "Two and five are four,
+      But _five and two_ are six."
+
+  What really passed I never learned,
+      Nor guessed: I only know
+  That, when at last my sense returned,
+  The lamp, neglected, dimly burned--
+      The fire was getting low--
+
+  Through driving mists I seemed to see
+      A Thing that smirked and smiled:
+  And found that he was giving me
+  A lesson in Biography,
+      As if I were a child.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO IV.
+
+Hys Nouryture.
+
+  "Oh, when I was a little Ghost,
+      A merry time had we!
+  Each seated on his favourite post,
+  We chumped and chawed the buttered toast
+      They gave us for our tea."
+
+  "That story is in print!" I cried.
+      "Don't say it's not, because
+  It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!"
+  (The Ghost uneasily replied
+      He hardly thought it was).
+
+  "It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet
+      I almost think it is--
+  'Three little Ghosteses' were set
+  'On posteses,' you know, and ate
+      Their 'buttered toasteses.'
+
+  "I have the book; so, if you doubt it--"
+      I turned to search the shelf.
+  "Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it;
+  I now remember all about it;
+      I wrote the thing myself.
+
+  "It came out in a 'Monthly,' or
+      At least my agent said it did:
+  Some literary swell, who saw
+  It, thought it seemed adapted for
+      The Magazine he edited.
+
+  "My father was a Brownie, Sir;
+      My mother was a Fairy.
+  The notion had occurred to her,
+  The children would be happier,
+      If they were taught to vary.
+
+  "The notion soon became a craze;
+      And, when it once began, she
+  Brought us all out in different ways--
+  One was a Pixy, two were Fays,
+      Another was a Banshee;
+
+  "The Fetch and Kelpie went to school,
+      And gave a lot of trouble;
+  Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,
+  And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),
+      A Goblin, and a Double--
+
+  "(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf,"
+      He added with a yawn,
+  "I'll take a pinch)--next came an Elf,
+  And then a Phantom (that's myself),
+      And last, a Leprechaun.
+
+  "One day, some Spectres chanced to call,
+      Dressed in the usual white:
+  I stood and watched them in the hall,
+  And couldn't make them out at all,
+      They seemed so strange a sight.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "I wondered what on earth they were,
+      That looked all head and sack;
+  But Mother told me not to stare,
+  And then she twitched me by the hair,
+      And punched me in the back.
+
+  "Since then I've often wished that I
+      Had been a Spectre born.
+  But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh).
+  "_They_ are the ghost-nobility,
+      And look on _us_ with scorn.
+
+  "My phantom-life was soon begun:
+      When I was barely six,
+  I went out with an older one--
+  And just at first I thought it fun,
+      And learned a lot of tricks.
+
+  "I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers--
+      Wherever I was sent:
+  I've often sat and howled for hours,
+  Drenched to the skin with driving showers,
+      Upon a battlement.
+
+  "It's quite old-fashioned now to groan
+      When you begin to speak:
+  This is the newest thing in tone--"
+  And here (it chilled me to the bone)
+      He gave an _awful_ squeak.
+
+  "Perhaps," he added, "to _your_ ear
+      That sounds an easy thing?
+  Try it yourself, my little dear!
+  It took _me_ something like a year,
+      With constant practising.
+
+  "And when you've learned to squeak, my man
+      And caught the double sob,
+  You're pretty much where you began:
+  Just try and gibber if you can!
+      That's something _like_ a job!
+
+  "_I've_ tried it, and can only say
+      I'm sure you couldn't do it, e-
+  ven if you practised night and day,
+  Unless you have a turn that way,
+      And natural ingenuity.
+
+  "Shakspeare I think it is who treats
+      Of Ghosts, in days of old,
+  Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,'
+  Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets--
+      They must have found it cold.
+
+  "I've often spent ten pounds on stuff,
+      In dressing as a Double;
+  But, though it answers as a puff,
+  It never has effect enough
+      To make it worth the trouble.
+
+  "Long bills soon quenched the little thirst
+      I had for being funny.
+  The setting-up is always worst:
+  Such heaps of things you want at first,
+      One must be made of money!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "For instance, take a Haunted Tower,
+      With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;
+  Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,
+  Condensing lens of extra power,
+      And set of chains complete:
+
+  "What with the things you have to hire--
+      The fitting on the robe--
+  And testing all the coloured fire--
+  The outfit of itself would tire
+      The patience of a Job!
+
+  "And then they're so fastidious,
+      The Haunted-House Committee:
+  I've often known them make a fuss
+  Because a Ghost was French, or Russ,
+      Or even from the City!
+
+  "Some dialects are objected to--
+      For one, the _Irish_ brogue is:
+  And then, for all you have to do,
+  One pound a week they offer you,
+      And find yourself in Bogies!"
+
+
+CANTO V.
+
+Byckerment.
+
+  "Don't they consult the 'Victims,' though?"
+      I said. "They should, by rights,
+  Give them a chance--because, you know,
+  The tastes of people differ so,
+      Especially in Sprites."
+
+  The Phantom shook his head and smiled.
+      "Consult them? Not a bit!
+  'Twould be a job to drive one wild,
+  To satisfy one single child--
+      There'd be no end to it!"
+
+  "Of course you can't leave _children_ free,"
+      Said I, "to pick and choose:
+  But, in the case of men like me,
+  I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be
+      Allowed to state his views."
+
+  He said "It really wouldn't pay--
+      Folk are so full of fancies.
+  We visit for a single day,
+  And whether then we go, or stay,
+      Depends on circumstances.
+
+  "And, though we don't consult 'Mine Host'
+      Before the thing's arranged,
+  Still, if he often quits his post,
+  Or is not a well-mannered Ghost,
+      Then you can have him changed.
+
+  "But if the host's a man like you--
+      I mean a man of sense;
+  And if the house is not too new--"
+  "Why, what has _that_," said I, "to do
+      With Ghost's convenience?"
+
+  "A new house does not suit, you know--
+      It's such a job to trim it:
+  But, after twenty years or so,
+  The wainscotings begin to go,
+      So twenty is the limit."
+
+  "To trim" was not a phrase I could
+      Remember having heard:
+  "Perhaps," I said, "you'll be so good
+  As tell me what is understood
+      Exactly by that word?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "It means the loosening all the doors,"
+      The Ghost replied, and laughed:
+  "It means the drilling holes by scores
+  In all the skirting-boards and floors,
+      To make a thorough draught.
+
+  "You'll sometimes find that one or two
+      Are all you really need
+  To let the wind come whistling through--
+  But _here_ there'll be a lot to do!"
+      I faintly gasped "Indeed!
+
+  "If I'd been rather later, I'll
+      Be bound," I added, trying
+  (Most unsuccessfully) to smile,
+  "You'd have been busy all this while,
+      Trimming and beautifying?"
+
+  "Why, no," said he; "perhaps I should
+      Have stayed another minute--
+  But still no Ghost, that's any good,
+  Without an introduction would
+      Have ventured to begin it.
+
+  "The proper thing, as you were late,
+      Was certainly to go:
+  But, with the roads in such a state,
+  I got the Knight-Mayor's leave to wait
+      For half an hour or so."
+
+  "Who's the Knight-Mayor?" I cried. Instead
+      Of answering my question,
+  "Well! If you don't know _that_," he said,
+  "Either you never go to bed,
+      Or you've a grand digestion!
+
+  "He goes about and sits on folk
+      That eat too much at night:
+  His duties are to pinch, and poke,
+  And squeeze them till they nearly choke."
+      (I said "It serves them right!")
+
+  "And folk that sup on things like these--"
+      He muttered, "eggs and bacon--
+  Lobster--and duck--and toasted cheese--
+  If they don't get an awful squeeze,
+      I'm very much mistaken!
+
+  "He is immensely fat, and so
+      Well suits the occupation:
+  In point of fact, if you must know,
+  We used to call him, years ago,
+      _The Mayor and Corporation_!
+
+[Illustration: "HE GOES ABOUT AND SITS ON FOLK"]
+
+  "The day he was elected Mayor
+      I _know_ that every Sprite meant
+  To vote for _me_, but did not dare--
+  He was so frantic with despair
+      And furious with excitement.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "When it was over, for a whim,
+      He ran to tell the King;
+  And being the reverse of slim,
+  A two-mile trot was not for him
+      A very easy thing.
+
+  "So, to reward him for his run
+      (As it was baking hot,
+  And he was over twenty stone),
+  The King proceeded, half in fun,
+      To knight him on the spot."
+
+  "'Twas a great liberty to take!"
+      (I fired up like a rocket).
+  "He did it just for punning's sake:
+  'The man,' says Johnson, 'that would make
+      A pun, would pick a pocket!'"
+
+  "A man," said he, "is not a King."
+      I argued for a while,
+  And did my best to prove the thing--
+  The Phantom merely listening
+      With a contemptuous smile.
+
+  At last, when, breath and patience spent,
+      I had recourse to smoking--
+  "Your _aim_," he said, "is excellent:
+  But--when you call it _argument_--
+      Of course you're only joking?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Stung by his cold and snaky eye,
+      I roused myself at length
+  To say "At least I do defy
+  The veriest sceptic to deny
+      That union is strength!"
+
+  "That's true enough," said he, "yet stay--"
+      I listened in all meekness--
+  "_Union_ is strength, I'm bound to say;
+  In fact, the thing's as clear as day;
+      But _onions_--are a weakness."
+
+
+CANTO VI.
+
+Dyscomfyture.
+
+  As one who strives a hill to climb,
+      Who never climbed before:
+  Who finds it, in a little time,
+  Grow every moment less sublime,
+      And votes the thing a bore:
+
+  Yet, having once begun to try,
+      Dares not desert his quest,
+  But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
+  On one small hut against the sky,
+      Wherein he hopes to rest:
+
+  Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
+      With many a puff and pant:
+  Who still, as rises the ascent,
+  In language grows more violent,
+      Although in breath more scant:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Who, climbing, gains at length the place
+      That crowns the upward track;
+  And, entering with unsteady pace,
+  Receives a buffet in the face
+      That lands him on his back:
+
+  And feels himself, like one in sleep,
+      Glide swiftly down again,
+  A helpless weight, from steep to steep,
+  Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,
+      He drops upon the plain--
+
+  So I, that had resolved to bring
+      Conviction to a ghost,
+  And found it quite a different thing
+  From any human arguing,
+      Yet dared not quit my post
+
+  But, keeping still the end in view
+      To which I hoped to come,
+  I strove to prove the matter true
+  By putting everything I knew
+      Into an axiom:
+
+  Commencing every single phrase
+      With 'therefore' or 'because,'
+  I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,
+  About the syllogistic maze,
+      Unconscious where I was.
+
+  Quoth he "That's regular clap-trap:
+      Don't bluster any more.
+  Now _do_ be cool and take a nap!
+  Such a ridiculous old chap
+      Was never seen before!
+
+  "You're like a man I used to meet,
+      Who got one day so furious
+  In arguing, the simple heat
+  Scorched both his slippers off his feet!"
+      I said "_That's very curious!_"
+
+[Illustration: "SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIPPERS OFF HIS FEET"]
+
+  "Well, it _is_ curious, I agree,
+      And sounds perhaps like fibs:
+  But still it's true as true can be--
+  As sure as your name's Tibbs," said he.
+      I said "My name's _not_ Tibbs."
+
+  "_Not_ Tibbs!" he cried--his tone became
+      A shade or two less hearty--
+  "Why, no," said I. "My proper name
+  Is Tibbets--" "Tibbets?" "Aye, the same."
+      "Why, then YOU'RE NOT THE PARTY!"
+
+  With that he struck the board a blow
+      That shivered half the glasses.
+  "Why couldn't you have told me so
+  Three quarters of an hour ago,
+      You prince of all the asses?
+
+  "To walk four miles through mud and rain,
+      To spend the night in smoking,
+  And then to find that it's in vain--
+  And I've to do it all again--
+      It's really _too_ provoking!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "Don't talk!" he cried, as I began
+      To mutter some excuse.
+  "Who can have patience with a man
+  That's got no more discretion than
+      An idiotic goose?
+
+  "To keep me waiting here, instead
+      Of telling me at once
+  That this was not the house!" he said.
+  "There, that'll do--be off to bed!
+      Don't gape like that, you dunce!"
+
+  "It's very fine to throw the blame
+      On _me_ in such a fashion!
+  Why didn't you enquire my name
+  The very minute that you came?"
+      I answered in a passion.
+
+  "Of course it worries you a bit
+      To come so far on foot--
+  But how was _I_ to blame for it?"
+  "Well, well!" said he. "I must admit
+      That isn't badly put.
+
+  "And certainly you've given me
+      The best of wine and victual--
+  Excuse my violence," said he,
+  "But accidents like this, you see,
+      They put one out a little.
+
+  "'Twas _my_ fault after all, I find--
+      Shake hands, old Turnip-top!"
+  The name was hardly to my mind,
+  But, as no doubt he meant it kind,
+      I let the matter drop.
+
+  "Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!
+      When I am gone, perhaps
+  They'll send you some inferior Sprite,
+  Who'll keep you in a constant fright
+      And spoil your soundest naps.
+
+  "Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick;
+      Then, if he leers and chuckles,
+  You just be handy with a stick
+  (Mind that it's pretty hard and thick)
+      And rap him on the knuckles!
+
+  "Then carelessly remark 'Old coon!
+      Perhaps you're not aware
+  That, if you don't behave, you'll soon
+  Be chuckling to another tune--
+      And so you'd best take care!'
+
+  "That's the right way to cure a Sprite
+      Of such-like goings-on--
+  But gracious me! It's getting light!
+  Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!"
+      A nod, and he was gone.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO VII.
+
+Sad Souvenaunce.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept?
+      Or can I have been drinking?"
+  But soon a gentler feeling crept
+  Upon me, and I sat and wept
+      An hour or so, like winking.
+
+  "No need for Bones to hurry so!"
+      I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt
+  If it was worth his while to go--
+  And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know,
+      To make such work about?
+
+  "If Tibbs is anything like me,
+      It's _possible_," I said,
+  "He won't be over-pleased to be
+  Dropped in upon at half-past three,
+      After he's snug in bed.
+
+  "And if Bones plagues him anyhow--
+      Squeaking and all the rest of it,
+  As he was doing here just now--
+  _I_ prophesy there'll be a row,
+      And Tibbs will have the best of it!"
+
+  Then, as my tears could never bring
+      The friendly Phantom back,
+  It seemed to me the proper thing
+  To mix another glass, and sing
+      The following Coronach.
+
+[Illustration: "AND TIBBS WILL HAVE THE BEST OF IT"]
+
+  '_And art thou gone, beloved Ghost?
+      Best of Familiars!
+  Nay then, farewell, my duckling roast,
+  Farewell, farewell, my tea and toast,
+      My meerschaum and cigars!_
+
+  '_The hues of life are dull and gray,
+      The sweets of life insipid,
+  When thou, my charmer, art away--
+  Old Brick, or rather, let me say,
+      Old Parallelepiped!_'
+
+  Instead of singing Verse the Third,
+      I ceased--abruptly, rather:
+  But, after such a splendid word,
+  I felt that it would be absurd
+      To try it any farther.
+
+  So with a yawn I went my way
+      To seek the welcome downy,
+  And slept, and dreamed till break of day
+  Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay
+      And Leprechaun and Brownie!
+
+  For years I've not been visited
+      By any kind of Sprite;
+  Yet still they echo in my head,
+  Those parting words, so kindly said,
+      "Old Turnip-top, good-night!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ECHOES.
+
+
+          Lady Clara Vere de Vere
+          Was eight years old, she said:
+  Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.
+
+          She took her little porringer:
+          Of me she shall not win renown:
+  For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her down.
+
+          "Sisters and brothers, little Maid?
+          There stands the Inspector at thy door:
+  Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four."
+
+          "Kind words are more than coronets,"
+          She said, and wondering looked at me:
+  "It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea."
+
+
+
+
+A SEA DIRGE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  There are certain things--as, a spider, a ghost,
+    The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three--
+  That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most
+        Is a thing they call the Sea.
+
+  Pour some salt water over the floor--
+    Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be:
+  Suppose it extended a mile or more,
+        _That's_ very like the Sea.
+
+  Beat a dog till it howls outright--
+    Cruel, but all very well for a spree:
+  Suppose that he did so day and night,
+        _That_ would be like the Sea.
+
+  I had a vision of nursery-maids;
+    Tens of thousands passed by me--
+  All leading children with wooden spades,
+        And this was by the Sea.
+
+  Who invented those spades of wood?
+    Who was it cut them out of the tree?
+  None, I think, but an idiot could--
+        Or one that loved the Sea.
+
+  It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float
+    With 'thoughts as boundless, and souls as free':
+  But, suppose you are very unwell in the boat,
+        How do you like the Sea?
+
+[Illustration: "AND THIS WAS BY THE SEA"]
+
+  There is an insect that people avoid
+    (Whence is derived the verb 'to flee').
+  Where have you been by it most annoyed?
+        In lodgings by the Sea.
+
+  If you like your coffee with sand for dregs,
+    A decided hint of salt in your tea,
+  And a fishy taste in the very eggs--
+        By all means choose the Sea.
+
+  And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,
+    You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
+  And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
+      Then--I recommend the Sea.
+
+  For _I_ have friends who dwell by the coast--
+    Pleasant friends they are to me!
+  It is when I am with them I wonder most
+        That any one likes the Sea.
+
+  They take me a walk: though tired and stiff,
+    To climb the heights I madly agree;
+  And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,
+        They kindly suggest the Sea.
+
+  I try the rocks, and I think it cool
+    That they laugh with such an excess of glee,
+  As I heavily slip into every pool
+        That skirts the cold cold Sea.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Y{e} Carpette Knyghte.
+
+
+  I have a horse--a ryghte goode horse--
+      Ne doe I envye those
+  Who scoure y{e} playne yn headye course
+      Tyll soddayne on theyre nose
+  They lyghte wyth unexpected force--
+      Yt ys--a horse of clothes.
+
+  I have a saddel--"Say'st thou soe?
+      Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?"
+  I sayde not that--I answere "Noe"--
+      Yt lacketh such, I woote:
+  Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!
+      Parte of y{e} fleecye brute.
+
+  I have a bytte--a ryghte good bytte--
+      As shall bee seene yn tyme.
+  Y{e} jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;
+      Yts use ys more sublyme.
+  Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt?
+      Yt ys--thys bytte of rhyme.
+
+[Illustration: "I HAVE A HORSE"]
+
+
+
+
+HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING.
+
+[In an age of imitation, I can claim no special merit for this slight
+attempt at doing what is known to be so easy. Any fairly practised writer,
+with the slightest ear for rhythm, could compose, for hours together, in
+the easy running metre of 'The Song of Hiawatha.' Having, then, distinctly
+stated that I challenge no attention in the following little poem to its
+merely verbal jingle, I must beg the candid reader to confine his
+criticism to its treatment of the subject.]
+
+
+  From his shoulder Hiawatha
+  Took the camera of rosewood,
+  Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
+  Neatly put it all together.
+  In its case it lay compactly,
+  Folded into nearly nothing;
+  But he opened out the hinges,
+  Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
+  Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
+  Like a complicated figure
+  In the Second Book of Euclid.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    This he perched upon a tripod--
+  Crouched beneath its dusky cover--
+  Stretched his hand, enforcing silence--
+  Said "Be motionless, I beg you!"
+  Mystic, awful was the process.
+    All the family in order
+  Sat before him for their pictures:
+  Each in turn, as he was taken,
+  Volunteered his own suggestions,
+  His ingenious suggestions.
+    First the Governor, the Father:
+  He suggested velvet curtains
+  Looped about a massy pillar;
+  And the corner of a table,
+  Of a rosewood dining-table.
+  He would hold a scroll of something,
+  Hold it firmly in his left-hand;
+  He would keep his right-hand buried
+  (Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;
+  He would contemplate the distance
+  With a look of pensive meaning,
+  As of ducks that die in tempests.
+    Grand, heroic was the notion:
+  Yet the picture failed entirely:
+  Failed, because he moved a little,
+  Moved, because he couldn't help it.
+    Next, his better half took courage;
+  She would have her picture taken.
+  _She_ came dressed beyond description,
+  Dressed in jewels and in satin
+  Far too gorgeous for an empress.
+
+[Illustration: "FIRST THE GOVERNOR, THE FATHER"]
+
+  Gracefully she sat down sideways,
+  With a simper scarcely human,
+  Holding in her hand a bouquet
+  Rather larger than a cabbage.
+  All the while that she was sitting,
+  Still the lady chattered, chattered,
+  Like a monkey in the forest.
+  "Am I sitting still?" she asked him.
+  "Is my face enough in profile?
+  Shall I hold the bouquet higher?
+  Will it come into the picture?"
+  And the picture failed completely.
+    Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab:
+  He suggested curves of beauty,
+  Curves pervading all his figure,
+  Which the eye might follow onward,
+  Till they centered in the breast-pin,
+  Centered in the golden breast-pin.
+  He had learnt it all from Ruskin
+  (Author of 'The Stones of Venice,'
+  'Seven Lamps of Architecture,'
+  'Modern Painters,' and some others);
+  And perhaps he had not fully
+  Understood his author's meaning;
+  But, whatever was the reason,
+  All was fruitless, as the picture
+  Ended in an utter failure.
+
+[Illustration: "NEXT THE SON, THE STUNNING-CANTAB"]
+
+    Next to him the eldest daughter:
+  She suggested very little,
+  Only asked if he would take her
+  With her look of 'passive beauty.'
+    Her idea of passive beauty
+  Was a squinting of the left-eye,
+  Was a drooping of the right-eye,
+  Was a smile that went up sideways
+  To the corner of the nostrils.
+    Hiawatha, when she asked him,
+  Took no notice of the question,
+  Looked as if he hadn't heard it;
+  But, when pointedly appealed to,
+  Smiled in his peculiar manner,
+  Coughed and said it 'didn't matter,'
+  Bit his lip and changed the subject.
+    Nor in this was he mistaken,
+  As the picture failed completely.
+    So in turn the other sisters.
+
+[Illustration: "NEXT TO HIM THE ELDEST DAUGHTER"]
+
+    Last, the youngest son was taken:
+  Very rough and thick his hair was,
+  Very round and red his face was,
+  Very dusty was his jacket,
+  Very fidgety his manner.
+  And his overbearing sisters
+  Called him names he disapproved of:
+  Called him Johnny, 'Daddy's Darling,'
+  Called him Jacky, 'Scrubby School-boy.'
+  And, so awful was the picture,
+  In comparison the others
+  Seemed, to one's bewildered fancy,
+  To have partially succeeded.
+    Finally my Hiawatha
+  Tumbled all the tribe together,
+  ('Grouped' is not the right expression),
+  And, as happy chance would have it,
+  Did at last obtain a picture
+  Where the faces all succeeded:
+  Each came out a perfect likeness.
+
+[Illustration: "LAST, THE YOUNGEST SON WAS TAKEN"]
+
+    Then they joined and all abused it,
+  Unrestrainedly abused it,
+  As the worst and ugliest picture
+  They could possibly have dreamed of.
+  Giving one such strange expressions--
+  Sullen, stupid, pert expressions.
+  Really any one would take us
+  (Any one that did not know us)
+  For the most unpleasant people!'
+  (Hiawatha seemed to think so,
+  Seemed to think it not unlikely).
+  All together rang their voices,
+  Angry, loud, discordant voices,
+  As of dogs that howl in concert,
+  As of cats that wail in chorus.
+    But my Hiawatha's patience,
+  His politeness and his patience,
+  Unaccountably had vanished,
+  And he left that happy party.
+  Neither did he leave them slowly,
+  With the calm deliberation,
+  The intense deliberation
+  Of a photographic artist:
+  But he left them in a hurry,
+  Left them in a mighty hurry,
+  Stating that he would not stand it,
+  Stating in emphatic language
+  What he'd be before he'd stand it.
+  Hurriedly he packed his boxes:
+  Hurriedly the porter trundled
+  On a barrow all his boxes:
+  Hurriedly he took his ticket:
+  Hurriedly the train received him:
+  Thus departed Hiawatha.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+MELANCHOLETTA.
+
+
+  With saddest music all day long
+    She soothed her secret sorrow:
+  At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong
+    Such cheerful words to borrow.
+  Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
+    I'll sing to thee to-morrow."
+
+  I thanked her, but I could not say
+    That I was glad to hear it:
+  I left the house at break of day,
+    And did not venture near it
+  Till time, I hoped, had worn away
+    Her grief, for nought could cheer it!
+
+[Illustration: "AT NIGHT SHE SIGHED"]
+
+  My dismal sister! Couldst thou know
+    The wretched home thou keepest!
+  Thy brother, drowned in daily woe,
+    Is thankful when thou sleepest;
+  For if I laugh, however low,
+    When thou'rt awake, thou weepest!
+
+  I took my sister t'other day
+    (Excuse the slang expression)
+  To Sadler's Wells to see the play,
+    In hopes the new impression
+  Might in her thoughts, from grave to gay
+    Effect some slight digression.
+
+  I asked three gay young dogs from town
+    To join us in our folly,
+  Whose mirth, I thought, might serve to drown
+    My sister's melancholy:
+  The lively Jones, the sportive Brown,
+    And Robinson the jolly.
+
+  The maid announced the meal in tones
+    That I myself had taught her,
+  Meant to allay my sister's moans
+    Like oil on troubled water:
+  I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones,
+    And begged him to escort her.
+
+  Vainly he strove, with ready wit,
+    To joke about the weather--
+  To ventilate the last '_on dit_'--
+    To quote the price of leather--
+  She groaned "Here I and Sorrow sit:
+    Let us lament together!"
+
+  I urged "You're wasting time, you know:
+    Delay will spoil the venison."
+  "My heart is wasted with my woe!
+    There is no rest--in Venice, on
+  The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted low
+    From Byron and from Tennyson.
+
+  I need not tell of soup and fish
+    In solemn silence swallowed,
+  The sobs that ushered in each dish,
+    And its departure followed,
+  Nor yet my suicidal wish
+    To _be_ the cheese I hollowed.
+
+  Some desperate attempts were made
+    To start a conversation;
+  "Madam," the sportive Brown essayed,
+    "Which kind of recreation,
+  Hunting or fishing, have you made
+    Your special occupation?"
+
+  Her lips curved downwards instantly,
+    As if of india-rubber.
+  "Hounds _in full cry_ I like," said she:
+    (Oh how I longed to snub her!)
+  "Of fish, a whale's the one for me,
+    _It is so full of blubber_!"
+
+  The night's performance was "King John."
+    "It's dull," she wept, "and so-so!"
+  A while I let her tears flow on,
+    She said they soothed her woe so!
+  At length the curtain rose upon
+    'Bombastes Furioso.'
+
+  In vain we roared; in vain we tried
+    To rouse her into laughter:
+  Her pensive glances wandered wide
+    From orchestra to rafter--
+  "_Tier upon tier!_" she said, and sighed;
+    And silence followed after.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A VALENTINE.
+
+[Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him
+when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away.]
+
+
+  And cannot pleasures, while they last,
+  Be actual unless, when past,
+  They leave us shuddering and aghast,
+          With anguish smarting?
+  And cannot friends be firm and fast,
+          And yet bear parting?
+
+  And must I then, at Friendship's call,
+  Calmly resign the little all
+  (Trifling, I grant, it is and small)
+          I have of gladness,
+  And lend my being to the thrall
+          Of gloom and sadness?
+
+  And think you that I should be dumb,
+  And full _dolorum omnium_,
+  Excepting when _you_ choose to come
+          And share my dinner?
+  At other times be sour and glum
+          And daily thinner?
+
+  Must he then only live to weep,
+  Who'd prove his friendship true and deep?
+  By day a lonely shadow creep,
+          At night-time languish,
+  Oft raising in his broken sleep
+          The moan of anguish?
+
+  The lover, if for certain days
+  His fair one be denied his gaze,
+  Sinks not in grief and wild amaze,
+          But, wiser wooer,
+  He spends the time in writing lays,
+          And posts them to her.
+
+  And if the verse flow free and fast,
+  Till even the poet is aghast,
+  A touching Valentine at last
+          The post shall carry,
+  When thirteen days are gone and past
+          Of February.
+
+  Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet,
+  In desert waste or crowded street,
+          Perhaps before this week shall fleet,
+  Perhaps to-morrow,
+  I trust to find _your_ heart the seat
+          Of wasting sorrow.
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE VOICES.
+
+
+The First Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  He trilled a carol fresh and free:
+  He laughed aloud for very glee:
+  There came a breeze from off the sea:
+
+  It passed athwart the glooming flat--
+  It fanned his forehead as he sat--
+  It lightly bore away his hat,
+
+  All to the feet of one who stood
+  Like maid enchanted in a wood,
+  Frowning as darkly as she could.
+
+  With huge umbrella, lank and brown,
+  Unerringly she pinned it down,
+  Right through the centre of the crown.
+
+  Then, with an aspect cold and grim,
+  Regardless of its battered rim,
+  She took it up and gave it him.
+
+  A while like one in dreams he stood,
+  Then faltered forth his gratitude
+  In words just short of being rude:
+
+  For it had lost its shape and shine,
+  And it had cost him four-and-nine,
+  And he was going out to dine.
+
+[Illustration: "UNERRINGLY SHE PINNED IT DOWN."]
+
+  "To dine!" she sneered in acid tone.
+  "To bend thy being to a bone
+  Clothed in a radiance not its own!"
+
+  The tear-drop trickled to his chin:
+  There was a meaning in her grin
+  That made him feel on fire within.
+
+  "Term it not 'radiance,'" said he:
+  "'Tis solid nutriment to me.
+  Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea."
+
+  And she "Yea so? Yet wherefore cease?
+  Let thy scant knowledge find increase.
+  Say 'Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.'"
+
+  He moaned: he knew not what to say.
+  The thought "That I could get away!"
+  Strove with the thought "But I must stay."
+
+  "To dine!" she shrieked in dragon-wrath.
+  "To swallow wines all foam and froth!
+  To simper at a table-cloth!
+
+  "Say, can thy noble spirit stoop
+  To join the gormandising troop
+  Who find a solace in the soup?
+
+  "Canst thou desire or pie or puff?
+  Thy well-bred manners were enough,
+  Without such gross material stuff."
+
+  "Yet well-bred men," he faintly said,
+  "Are not unwilling to be fed:
+  Nor are they well without the bread."
+
+  Her visage scorched him ere she spoke:
+  "There are," she said, "a kind of folk
+  Who have no horror of a joke.
+
+  "Such wretches live: they take their share
+  Of common earth and common air:
+  We come across them here and there:
+
+  "We grant them--there is no escape--
+  A sort of semi-human shape
+  Suggestive of the man-like Ape."
+
+  "In all such theories," said he,
+  "One fixed exception there must be.
+  That is, the Present Company."
+
+  Baffled, she gave a wolfish bark:
+  He, aiming blindly in the dark,
+  With random shaft had pierced the mark.
+
+  She felt that her defeat was plain,
+  Yet madly strove with might and main
+  To get the upper hand again.
+
+  Fixing her eyes upon the beach,
+  As though unconscious of his speech,
+  She said "Each gives to more than each."
+
+  He could not answer yea or nay:
+  He faltered "Gifts may pass away."
+  Yet knew not what he meant to say.
+
+  "If that be so," she straight replied,
+  "Each heart with each doth coincide.
+  What boots it? For the world is wide."
+
+[Illustration: "HE FALTERED 'GIFTS MAY PASS AWAY.'"]
+
+  "The world is but a Thought," said he:
+  "The vast unfathomable sea
+  Is but a Notion--unto me."
+
+  And darkly fell her answer dread
+  Upon his unresisting head,
+  Like half a hundredweight of lead.
+
+  "The Good and Great must ever shun
+  That reckless and abandoned one
+  Who stoops to perpetrate a pun.
+
+  "The man that smokes--that reads the _Times_--
+  That goes to Christmas Pantomimes--
+  Is capable of _any_ crimes!"
+
+  He felt it was his turn to speak,
+  And, with a shamed and crimson cheek,
+  Moaned "This is harder than Bezique!"
+
+  But when she asked him "Wherefore so?"
+  He felt his very whiskers glow,
+  And frankly owned "I do not know."
+
+[Illustration: "THIS IS HARDER THAN BEZIQUE!"]
+
+  While, like broad waves of golden grain,
+  Or sunlit hues on cloistered pane,
+  His colour came and went again.
+
+  Pitying his obvious distress,
+  Yet with a tinge of bitterness,
+  She said "The More exceeds the Less."
+
+  "A truth of such undoubted weight,"
+  He urged, "and so extreme in date,
+  It were superfluous to state."
+
+  Roused into sudden passion, she
+  In tone of cold malignity:
+  "To others, yea: but not to thee."
+
+  But when she saw him quail and quake,
+  And when he urged "For pity's sake!"
+  Once more in gentle tone she spake.
+
+  "Thought in the mind doth still abide:
+  That is by Intellect supplied,
+  And within that Idea doth hide:
+
+  "And he, that yearns the truth to know,
+  Still further inwardly may go,
+  And find Idea from Notion flow:
+
+  "And thus the chain, that sages sought,
+  Is to a glorious circle wrought,
+  For Notion hath its source in Thought."
+
+  So passed they on with even pace:
+  Yet gradually one might trace
+  A shadow growing on his face.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Second Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  They walked beside the wave-worn beach;
+  Her tongue was very apt to teach,
+  And now and then he did beseech
+
+  She would abate her dulcet tone,
+  Because the talk was all her own,
+  And he was dull as any drone.
+
+  She urged "No cheese is made of chalk":
+  And ceaseless flowed her dreary talk,
+  Tuned to the footfall of a walk.
+
+  Her voice was very full and rich,
+  And, when at length she asked him "Which?"
+  It mounted to its highest pitch.
+
+  He a bewildered answer gave,
+  Drowned in the sullen moaning wave,
+  Lost in the echoes of the cave.
+
+  He answered her he knew not what:
+  Like shaft from bow at random shot,
+  He spoke, but she regarded not.
+
+  She waited not for his reply,
+  But with a downward leaden eye
+  Went on as if he were not by:
+
+  Sound argument and grave defence,
+  Strange questions raised on "Why?" and "Whence?"
+  And wildly tangled evidence.
+
+  When he, with racked and whirling brain,
+  Feebly implored her to explain,
+  She simply said it all again.
+
+  Wrenched with an agony intense,
+  He spake, neglecting Sound and Sense,
+  And careless of all consequence:
+
+  "Mind--I believe--is Essence--Ent--
+  Abstract--that is--an Accident--
+  Which we--that is to say--I meant--"
+
+  When, with quick breath and cheeks all flushed,
+  At length his speech was somewhat hushed,
+  She looked at him, and he was crushed.
+
+  It needed not her calm reply:
+  She fixed him with a stony eye,
+  And he could neither fight nor fly,
+
+  While she dissected, word by word,
+  His speech, half guessed at and half heard,
+  As might a cat a little bird.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SPAKE, NEGLECTING SOUND AND SENSE."]
+
+  Then, having wholly overthrown
+  His views, and stripped them to the bone,
+  Proceeded to unfold her own.
+
+  "Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss
+  Of other thoughts no thought but this,
+  Harmonious dews of sober bliss?
+
+  "What boots it? Shall his fevered eye
+  Through towering nothingness descry
+  The grisly phantom hurry by?
+
+  "And hear dumb shrieks that fill the air;
+  See mouths that gape, and eyes that stare
+  And redden in the dusky glare?
+
+  "The meadows breathing amber light,
+  The darkness toppling from the height,
+  The feathery train of granite Night?
+
+  "Shall he, grown gray among his peers,
+  Through the thick curtain of his tears
+  Catch glimpses of his earlier years,
+
+[Illustration: "SHALL MAN BE MAN?"]
+
+  "And hear the sounds he knew of yore,
+  Old shufflings on the sanded floor,
+  Old knuckles tapping at the door?
+
+  "Yet still before him as he flies
+  One pallid form shall ever rise,
+  And, bodying forth in glassy eyes
+
+  "The vision of a vanished good,
+  Low peering through the tangled wood,
+  Shall freeze the current of his blood."
+
+  Still from each fact, with skill uncouth
+  And savage rapture, like a tooth
+  She wrenched some slow reluctant truth.
+
+  Till, like a silent water-mill,
+  When summer suns have dried the rill,
+  She reached a full stop, and was still.
+
+  Dead calm succeeded to the fuss,
+  As when the loaded omnibus
+  Has reached the railway terminus:
+
+  When, for the tumult of the street,
+  Is heard the engine's stifled beat,
+  The velvet tread of porters' feet.
+
+  With glance that ever sought the ground,
+  She moved her lips without a sound,
+  And every now and then she frowned.
+
+  He gazed upon the sleeping sea,
+  And joyed in its tranquillity,
+  And in that silence dead, but she
+
+  To muse a little space did seem,
+  Then, like the echo of a dream,
+  Harped back upon her threadbare theme.
+
+  Still an attentive ear he lent
+  But could not fathom what she meant:
+  She was not deep, nor eloquent.
+
+  He marked the ripple on the sand:
+  The even swaying of her hand
+  Was all that he could understand.
+
+  He saw in dreams a drawing-room,
+  Where thirteen wretches sat in gloom,
+  Waiting--he thought he knew for whom:
+
+  He saw them drooping here and there,
+  Each feebly huddled on a chair,
+  In attitudes of blank despair:
+
+  Oysters were not more mute than they,
+  For all their brains were pumped away,
+  And they had nothing more to say--
+
+  Save one, who groaned "Three hours are gone!"
+  Who shrieked "We'll wait no longer, John!
+  Tell them to set the dinner on!"
+
+  The vision passed: the ghosts were fled:
+  He saw once more that woman dread:
+  He heard once more the words she said.
+
+  He left her, and he turned aside:
+  He sat and watched the coming tide
+  Across the shores so newly dried.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SAT AND WATCHED THE COMING TIDE"]
+
+  He wondered at the waters clear,
+  The breeze that whispered in his ear,
+  The billows heaving far and near,
+
+  And why he had so long preferred
+  To hang upon her every word:
+  "In truth," he said, "it was absurd."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Third Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Not long this transport held its place:
+  Within a little moment's space
+  Quick tears were raining down his face.
+
+  His heart stood still, aghast with fear;
+  A wordless voice, nor far nor near,
+  He seemed to hear and not to hear.
+
+  "Tears kindle not the doubtful spark.
+  If so, why not? Of this remark
+  The bearings are profoundly dark."
+
+  "Her speech," he said, "hath caused this pain.
+  Easier I count it to explain
+  The jargon of the howling main,
+
+  "Or, stretched beside some babbling brook,
+  To con, with inexpressive look,
+  An unintelligible book."
+
+  Low spake the voice within his head,
+  In words imagined more than said,
+  Soundless as ghost's intended tread:
+
+  "If thou art duller than before,
+  Why quittedst thou the voice of lore?
+  Why not endure, expecting more?"
+
+  "Rather than that," he groaned aghast,
+  "I'd writhe in depths of cavern vast,
+  Some loathly vampire's rich repast."
+
+[Illustration: "HE GROANED AGHAST"]
+
+  "'Twere hard," it answered, "themes immense
+  To coop within the narrow fence
+  That rings _thy_ scant intelligence."
+
+  "Not so," he urged, "nor once alone:
+  But there was something in her tone
+  That chilled me to the very bone.
+
+  "Her style was anything but clear,
+  And most unpleasantly severe;
+  Her epithets were very queer.
+
+  "And yet, so grand were her replies,
+  I could not choose but deem her wise;
+  I did not dare to criticise;
+
+  "Nor did I leave her, till she went
+  So deep in tangled argument
+  That all my powers of thought were spent."
+
+  A little whisper inly slid,
+  "Yet truth is truth: you know you did."
+  A little wink beneath the lid.
+
+  And, sickened with excess of dread,
+  Prone to the dust he bent his head,
+  And lay like one three-quarters dead.
+
+  The whisper left him--like a breeze
+  Lost in the depths of leafy trees--
+  Left him by no means at his ease.
+
+  Once more he weltered in despair,
+  With hands, through denser-matted hair,
+  More tightly clenched than then they were.
+
+  When, bathed in Dawn of living red,
+  Majestic frowned the mountain head,
+  "Tell me my fault," was all he said.
+
+  When, at high Noon, the blazing sky
+  Scorched in his head each haggard eye,
+  Then keenest rose his weary cry.
+
+  And when at Eve the unpitying sun
+  Smiled grimly on the solemn fun,
+  "Alack," he sighed, "what _have_ I done?"
+
+[Illustration: "TORTURED, UNAIDED, AND ALONE"]
+
+  But saddest, darkest was the sight,
+  When the cold grasp of leaden Night
+  Dashed him to earth, and held him tight.
+
+  Tortured, unaided, and alone,
+  Thunders were silence to his groan,
+  Bagpipes sweet music to its tone:
+
+  "What? Ever thus, in dismal round,
+  Shall Pain and Mystery profound
+  Pursue me like a sleepless hound,
+
+  "With crimson-dashed and eager jaws,
+  Me, still in ignorance of the cause,
+  Unknowing what I broke of laws?"
+
+  The whisper to his ear did seem
+  Like echoed flow of silent stream,
+  Or shadow of forgotten dream,
+
+  The whisper trembling in the wind:
+  "Her fate with thine was intertwined,"
+  So spake it in his inner mind:
+
+[Illustration: "A SCARED DULLARD, GIBBERING LOW"]
+
+  "Each orbed on each a baleful star:
+  Each proved the other's blight and bar:
+  Each unto each were best, most far:
+
+  "Yea, each to each was worse than foe:
+  Thou, a scared dullard, gibbering low,
+  AND SHE, AN AVALANCHE OF WOE!"
+
+
+
+
+T�MA CON VARIAZI�NI.
+
+[Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process of
+Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister-art Music? The
+Diluter gives us first a few notes of some well-known Air, then a dozen
+bars of his own, then a few more notes of the Air, and so on alternately:
+thus saving the listener, if not from all risk of recognising the melody
+at all, at least from the too-exciting transports which it might produce
+in a more concentrated form. The process is termed "setting" by Composers,
+and any one, that has ever experienced the emotion of being unexpectedly
+set down in a heap of mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this
+happy phrase.
+
+For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly over a morsel of
+supreme Venison--whose every fibre seems to murmur "Excelsior!"--yet
+swallows, ere returning to the toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of
+oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the perfect Connoisseur in
+Claret permits himself but one delicate sip, and then tosses off a pint or
+more of boarding-school beer: so also----
+
+
+  I never loved a dear Gazelle--
+    _Nor anything that cost me much:
+  High prices profit those who sell,
+    But why should I be fond of such?_
+
+  To glad me with his soft black eye
+    _My son comes trotting home from school;
+  He's had a fight, but can't tell why--
+    He always was a little fool!_
+
+  But, when he came to know me well,
+    _He kicked me out, her testy Sire:
+  And when I stained my hair, that Belle,
+    Might note the change, and thus admire_
+
+  And love me, it was sure to dye
+    _A muddy green or staring blue:
+  Whilst one might trace, with half an eye,
+    The still triumphant carrot through_.
+
+
+
+
+A GAME OF FIVES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
+  Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.
+
+  Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
+  Sitting down to lessons--no more time for tricks.
+
+  Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
+  Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!
+
+  Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
+  Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you _mean_!"
+
+[Illustration: "NOW TELL ME WHICH YOU _MEAN_!"]
+
+  Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
+  But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?
+
+  Five showy girls--but Thirty is an age
+  When girls may be _engaging_, but they somehow don't _engage_.
+
+  Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
+  So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Five _pass�_ girls--Their age? Well, never mind!
+  We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
+  But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
+  The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!
+
+
+
+
+POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  "How shall I be a poet?
+    How shall I write in rhyme?
+  You told me once 'the very wish
+    Partook of the sublime.'
+  Then tell me how! Don't put me off
+    With your 'another time'!"
+
+  The old man smiled to see him,
+    To hear his sudden sally;
+  He liked the lad to speak his mind
+    Enthusiastically;
+  And thought "There's no hum-drum in him,
+    Nor any shilly-shally."
+
+  "And would you be a poet
+    Before you've been to school?
+  Ah, well! I hardly thought you
+    So absolute a fool.
+  First learn to be spasmodic--
+    A very simple rule.
+
+  "For first you write a sentence,
+    And then you chop it small;
+  Then mix the bits, and sort them out
+    Just as they chance to fall:
+  The order of the phrases makes
+    No difference at all.
+
+  "Then, if you'd be impressive,
+    Remember what I say,
+  That abstract qualities begin
+    With capitals alway:
+  The True, the Good, the Beautiful--
+    Those are the things that pay!
+
+  "Next, when you are describing
+    A shape, or sound, or tint;
+  Don't state the matter plainly,
+    But put it in a hint;
+  And learn to look at all things
+    With a sort of mental squint."
+
+  "For instance, if I wished, Sir,
+    Of mutton-pies to tell,
+  Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks
+    Pent in a wheaten cell'?"
+  "Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase
+    Would answer very well.
+
+  "Then fourthly, there are epithets
+    That suit with any word--
+  As well as Harvey's Reading Sauce
+    With fish, or flesh, or bird--
+  Of these, 'wild,' 'lonely,' 'weary,' 'strange,'
+    Are much to be preferred."
+
+  "And will it do, O will it do
+    To take them in a lump--
+  As 'the wild man went his weary way
+    To a strange and lonely pump'?"
+  "Nay, nay! You must not hastily
+    To such conclusions jump.
+
+  "Such epithets, like pepper,
+    Give zest to what you write;
+  And, if you strew them sparely,
+    They whet the appetite:
+  But if you lay them on too thick,
+    You spoil the matter quite!
+
+[Illustration: "THE WILD MAN WENT HIS WEARY WAY"]
+
+  "Last, as to the arrangement:
+    Your reader, you should show him,
+  Must take what information he
+    Can get, and look for no im-
+  mature disclosure of the drift
+    And purpose of your poem.
+
+  "Therefore, to test his patience--
+    How much he can endure--
+  Mention no places, names, or dates,
+    And evermore be sure
+  Throughout the poem to be found
+    Consistently obscure.
+
+  "First fix upon the limit
+    To which it shall extend:
+  Then fill it up with 'Padding'
+    (Beg some of any friend):
+  Your great SENSATION-STANZA
+    You place towards the end."
+
+  "And what is a Sensation,
+    Grandfather, tell me, pray?
+  I think I never heard the word
+    So used before to-day:
+  Be kind enough to mention one
+    '_Exempli grati�_.'"
+
+  And the old man, looking sadly
+    Across the garden-lawn,
+  Where here and there a dew-drop
+    Yet glittered in the dawn,
+  Said "Go to the Adelphi,
+    And see the 'Colleen Bawn.'
+
+  "The word is due to Boucicault--
+    The theory is his,
+  Where Life becomes a Spasm,
+    And History a Whiz:
+  If that is not Sensation,
+    I don't know what it is.
+
+  "Now try your hand, ere Fancy
+    Have lost its present glow--"
+  "And then," his grandson added,
+    "We'll publish it, you know:
+  Green cloth--gold-lettered at the back--
+    In duodecimo!"
+
+  Then proudly smiled that old man
+    To see the eager lad
+  Rush madly for his pen and ink
+    And for his blotting-pad--
+  But, when he thought of _publishing_,
+    His face grew stern and sad.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK,
+
+An Agony in Eight Fits.
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+If--and the thing is wildly possible--the charge of writing nonsense were
+ever brought against the author of this brief but instructive poem, it
+would be based, I feel convinced, on the line (in p. 144)
+
+  "Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:"
+
+In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I might) appeal
+indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such a
+deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral purpose of this
+poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so cautiously inculcated in
+it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History--I will take the more
+prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened.
+
+The Bellman, who was almost morbidly sensitive about appearances, used to
+have the bowsprit unshipped once or twice a week to be revarnished; and it
+more than once happened, when the time came for replacing it, that no one
+on board could remember which end of the ship it belonged to. They knew it
+was not of the slightest use to appeal to the Bellman about it--he would
+only refer to his Naval Code, and read out in pathetic tones Admiralty
+Instructions which none of them had ever been able to understand--so it
+generally ended in its being fastened on, anyhow, across the rudder. The
+helmsman[1] used to stand by with tears in his eyes: _he_ knew it was all
+wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of the Code, "_No one shall speak to the Man at
+the Helm_," had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words "_and
+the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one_." So remonstrance was
+impossible, and no steering could be done till the next varnishing day.
+During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed backwards.
+
+As this poem is to some extent connected with the lay of the Jabberwock,
+let me take this opportunity of answering a question that has often been
+asked me, how to pronounce "slithy toves." The "i" in "slithy" is long, as
+in "writhe"; and "toves" is pronounced so as to rhyme with "groves."
+Again, the first "o" in "borogoves" is pronounced like the "o" in
+"borrow." I have heard people try to give it the sound of the "o" in
+"worry." Such is Human Perversity.
+
+     [1] This office was usually undertaken by the Boots, who found in it
+     a refuge from the Baker's constant complaints about the insufficient
+     blacking of his three pair of boots.
+
+This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard words in that
+poem. Humpty-Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed into one word like a
+portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.
+
+For instance, take the two words "fuming" and "furious." Make up your mind
+that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which you will say
+first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts incline ever so
+little towards "fuming," you will say "fuming-furious"; if they turn, by
+even a hair's breadth towards "furious," you will say "furious-fuming";
+but if you have that rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind, you will
+say "frumious."
+
+Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words--
+
+  "Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!"
+
+Justice Shallow had felt certain that it was either William or Richard,
+but had not been able to settle which, so that he could not possibly say
+either name before the other, can it be doubted that, rather than die, he
+would have gasped out "Rilchiam!"
+
+
+Fit the First.
+
+_THE LANDING._
+
+  "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
+    As he landed his crew with care;
+  Supporting each man on the top of the tide
+    By a finger entwined in his hair.
+
+  "Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
+    That alone should encourage the crew.
+  Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
+    What I tell you three times is true."
+
+  The crew was complete: it included a Boots--
+    A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--
+  A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--
+    And a Broker, to value their goods.
+
+[Illustration: "SUPPORTING EACH MAN ON THE TOP OF THE TIDE"]
+
+  A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
+    Might perhaps have won more than his share--
+  But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
+    Had the whole of their cash in his care.
+
+  There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
+    Or would sit making lace in the bow:
+  And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
+    Though none of the sailors knew how.
+
+  There was one who was famed for the number of things
+    He forgot when he entered the ship:
+  His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
+    And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
+
+  He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
+    With his name painted clearly on each:
+  But since he omitted to mention the fact,
+    They were all left behind on the beach.
+
+  The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
+    He had seven coats on when he came,
+  With three pair of boots--but the worst of it was
+    He had wholly forgotten his name.
+
+[Illustration: "HE HAD WHOLLY FORGOTTEN HIS NAME"]
+
+  He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
+    Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
+  To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
+    But especially "Thing-um-a jig!"
+
+  While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
+    He had different names from these:
+  His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends,"
+    And his enemies "Toasted-cheese."
+
+  "His form is ungainly--his intellect small--"
+    (So the Bellman would often remark)--
+  "But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,
+    Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."
+
+  He would joke with hy�nas, returning their stare
+    With an impudent wag of the head:
+  And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,
+    "Just to keep up its spirits," he said.
+
+  He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late--
+    And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad--
+  He could only bake Bride-cake--for which, I may state,
+    No materials were to be had.
+
+  The last of the crew needs especial remark,
+    Though he looked an incredible dunce:
+  He had just one idea--but, that one being "Snark,"
+    The good Bellman engaged him at once.
+
+  He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
+    When the ship had been sailing a week,
+  He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,
+    And was almost too frightened to speak:
+
+  But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
+    There was only one Beaver on board;
+  And that was a tame one he had of his own,
+    Whose death would be deeply deplored.
+
+  The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
+    Protested, with tears in its eyes,
+  That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
+    Could atone for that dismal surprise!
+
+  It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
+    Conveyed in a separate ship:
+  But the Bellman declared that would never agree
+    With the plans he had made for the trip:
+
+[Illustration: "THE BEAVER KEPT LOOKING THE OPPOSITE WAY"]
+
+  Navigation was always a difficult art,
+    Though with only one ship and one bell:
+  And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
+    Undertaking another as well.
+
+  The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure
+    A second-hand dagger-proof coat--
+  So the Baker advised it--and next, to insure
+    Its life in some Office of note:
+
+  This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire
+    (On moderate terms), or for sale,
+  Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
+    And one Against Damage From Hail.
+
+  Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
+    Whenever the Butcher was by,
+  The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
+    And appeared unaccountably shy.
+
+
+Fit the Second.
+
+_THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH._
+
+  The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies--
+    Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
+  Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
+    The moment one looked in his face!
+
+  He had bought a large map representing the sea,
+    Without the least vestige of land:
+  And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
+    A map they could all understand.
+
+  "What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
+    Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?"
+  So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
+    "They are merely conventional signs!
+
+[Illustration: OCEAN-CHART.]
+
+  "Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
+    But we've got our brave Captain to thank"
+  (So the crew would protest) "that he's bought _us_ the best--
+    A perfect and absolute blank!"
+
+  This was charming, no doubt: but they shortly found out
+    That the Captain they trusted so well
+  Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
+    And that was to tingle his bell.
+
+  He was thoughtful and grave--but the orders he gave
+    Were enough to bewilder a crew.
+  When he cried "Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!"
+    What on earth was the helmsman to do?
+
+  Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
+    A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
+  That frequently happens in tropical climes,
+    When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked."
+
+  But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
+    And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
+  Said he _had_ hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
+    That the ship would _not_ travel due West!
+
+  But the danger was past--they had landed at last,
+    With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
+  Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view
+    Which consisted of chasms and crags.
+
+  The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
+    And repeated in musical tone
+  Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe--
+    But the crew would do nothing but groan.
+
+  He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
+    And bade them sit down on the beach:
+  And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
+    As he stood and delivered his speech.
+
+  "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!
+    (They were all of them fond of quotations:
+  So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers
+    While he served out additional rations).
+
+  "We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
+    (Four weeks to the month you may mark),
+  But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
+    Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
+
+  "We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
+    (Seven days to the week I allow),
+  But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
+    We have never beheld till now!
+
+  "Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
+    The five unmistakable marks
+  By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
+    The warranted genuine Snarks.
+
+  "Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
+    Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
+  Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
+    With a flavour of Will-o-the wisp.
+
+  "Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
+    That it carries too far, when I say
+  That it frequently breakfasts at five o'clock tea,
+    And dines on the following day.
+
+  "The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
+    Should you happen to venture on one,
+  It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
+    And it always looks grave at a pun.
+
+  "The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
+    Which it constantly carries about,
+  And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes--
+    A sentiment open to doubt.
+
+  "The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
+    To describe each particular batch:
+  Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
+    From those that have whiskers, and scratch.
+
+  "For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
+    Yet I feel it my duty to say
+  Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
+    For the Baker had fainted away.
+
+
+Fit the Third.
+
+_THE BAKER'S TALE._
+
+  They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice--
+    They roused him with mustard and cress--
+  They roused him with jam and judicious advice--
+    They set him conundrums to guess.
+
+  When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
+    His sad story he offered to tell;
+  And the Bellman cried "Silence! Not even a shriek!"
+    And excitedly tingled his bell.
+
+  There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream;
+    Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
+  As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
+    In an antediluvian tone.
+
+  "My father and mother were honest, though poor--"
+    "Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste.
+  "If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark--
+    We have hardly a minute to waste!"
+
+  "I skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,
+    "And proceed without further remark
+  To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
+    To help you in hunting the Snark.
+
+  "A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
+    Remarked, when I bade him farewell--"
+  "Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,
+    As he angrily tingled his bell.
+
+  "He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,
+    "'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
+  Fetch it home by all means--you may serve it with greens
+    And it's handy for striking a light.
+
+  "'You may seek it with thimbles--and seek it with care;
+    You may hunt it with forks and hope;
+  You may threaten its life with a railway-share;
+    You may charm it with smiles and soap--'"
+
+  ("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold
+    In a hasty parenthesis cried,
+  "That's exactly the way I have always been told
+    That the capture of Snarks should be tried!")
+
+  "'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
+    If your Snark be a Boojum! For then
+  You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
+    And never be met with again!'
+
+  "It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
+    When I think of my uncle's last words:
+  And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
+    Brimming over with quivering curds!
+
+  "It is this, it is this--" "We have had that before!"
+    The Bellman indignantly said.
+  And the Baker replied "Let me say it once more.
+    It is this, it is this that I dread!
+
+  "I engage with the Snark--every night after dark--
+    In a dreamy delirious fight:
+  I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
+    And I use it for striking a light:
+
+[Illustration: "BUT OH, BEAMISH NEPHEW, BEWARE OF THE DAY"]
+
+  "But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
+    In a moment (of this I am sure),
+  I shall softly and suddenly vanish away--
+    And the notion I cannot endure!"
+
+
+Fit the Fourth.
+
+_THE HUNTING._
+
+  The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
+    "If only you'd spoken before!
+  It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
+    With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!
+
+  "We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
+    If you never were met with again--
+  But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
+    You might have suggested it then?
+
+  "It's excessively awkward to mention it now--
+    As I think I've already remarked."
+  And the man they called "Hi!" replied, with a sigh,
+    "I informed you the day we embarked.
+
+  "You may charge me with murder--or want of sense--
+    (We are all of us weak at times):
+  But the slightest approach to a false pretence
+    Was never among my crimes!
+
+  "I said it in Hebrew--I said it in Dutch--
+    I said it in German and Greek:
+  But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
+    That English is what you speak!"
+
+  "'Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face
+    Had grown longer at every word:
+  "But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,
+    More debate would be simply absurd.
+
+  "The rest of my speech" (he explained to his men)
+    "You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it.
+  But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
+    'Tis your glorious duty to seek it!
+
+  "To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
+    To pursue it with forks and hope;
+  To threaten its life with a railway-share;
+    To charm it with smiles and soap!
+
+[Illustration: "TO PURSUE IT WITH FORKS AND HOPE."]
+
+  "For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't
+    Be caught in a commonplace way.
+  Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:
+    Not a chance must be wasted to-day!
+
+  "For England expects--I forbear to proceed:
+    'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
+  And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need
+    To rig yourselves out for the fight."
+
+  Then the Banker endorsed a blank cheque (which he crossed),
+    And changed his loose silver for notes:
+  The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
+    And shook the dust out of his coats:
+
+  The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade--
+    Each working the grindstone in turn:
+  But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
+    No interest in the concern:
+
+  Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
+    And vainly proceeded to cite
+  A number of cases, in which making laces
+    Had been proved an infringement of right.
+
+  The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
+    A novel arrangement of bows:
+  While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
+    Was chalking the tip of his nose.
+
+  But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
+    With yellow kid gloves and a ruff--
+  Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
+    Which the Bellman declared was all "stuff."
+
+  "Introduce me, now there's a good fellow," he said,
+    "If we happen to meet it together!"
+  And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
+    Said "That must depend on the weather."
+
+  The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
+    At seeing the Butcher so shy:
+  And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
+    Made an effort to wink with one eye.
+
+  "Be a man!" cried the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
+    The Butcher beginning to sob.
+  "Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
+    We shall need all our strength for the job!"
+
+
+Fit the Fifth.
+
+_THE BEAVER'S LESSON._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
+    For making a separate sally;
+  And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
+    A dismal and desolate valley.
+
+  But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
+    It had chosen the very same place:
+  Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
+    The disgust that appeared in his face.
+
+  Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark"
+    And the glorious work of the day;
+  And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
+    That the other was going that way.
+
+  But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
+    And the evening got darker and colder,
+  Till (merely from nervousness, not from good will)
+    They marched along shoulder to shoulder.
+
+  Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
+    And they knew that some danger was near:
+  The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
+    And even the Butcher felt queer.
+
+  He thought of his childhood, left far far behind--
+    That blissful and innocent state--
+  The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
+    A pencil that squeaks on a slate!
+
+  "'Tis the voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried.
+    (This man, that they used to call "Dunce.")
+  "As the Bellman would tell you," he added with pride,
+    "I have uttered that sentiment once."
+
+  "'Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
+    You will find I have told it you twice.
+  'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
+    If only I've stated it thrice."
+
+  The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
+    Attending to every word:
+  But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
+    When the third repetition occurred.
+
+  It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
+    It had somehow contrived to lose count,
+  And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
+    By reckoning up the amount.
+
+  "Two added to one--if that could but be done,"
+    It said, "with one's fingers and thumbs!"
+  Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
+    It had taken no pains with its sums.
+
+  "The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.
+    The thing must be done, I am sure.
+  The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,
+    The best there is time to procure."
+
+  The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens,
+    And ink in unfailing supplies:
+  While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
+    And watched them with wondering eyes.
+
+  So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
+    As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
+  And explained all the while in a popular style
+    Which the Beaver could well understand.
+
+  "Taking Three as the subject to reason about--
+    A convenient number to state--
+  We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
+    By One Thousand diminished by Eight.
+
+  "The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
+    By Nine-Hundred-and-Ninety-and-Two:
+  Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
+    Exactly and perfectly true.
+
+  "The method employed I would gladly explain,
+    While I have it so clear in my head,
+  If I had but the time and you had but the brain--
+    But much yet remains to be said.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BEAVER BROUGHT PAPER, PORTFOLIO, PENS"]
+
+  "In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been
+    Enveloped in absolute mystery,
+  And without extra charge I will give you at large
+    A Lesson in Natural History."
+
+  In his genial way he proceeded to say
+    (Forgetting all laws of propriety,
+  And that giving instruction, without introduction,
+    Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),
+
+  "As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
+    Since it lives in perpetual passion:
+  Its taste in costume is entirely absurd--
+    It is ages ahead of the fashion:
+
+  "But it knows any friend it has met once before:
+    It never will look at a bribe:
+  And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,
+    And collects--though it does not subscribe.
+
+  "Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
+    Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
+  (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
+    And some, in mahogany kegs:)
+
+  "You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
+    You condense it with locusts and tape:
+  Still keeping one principal object in view--
+    To preserve its symmetrical shape."
+
+  The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
+    But he felt that the Lesson must end,
+  And he wept with delight in attempting to say
+    He considered the Beaver his friend:
+
+  While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks
+    More eloquent even than tears,
+  It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
+    Would have taught it in seventy years.
+
+  They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
+    (For a moment) with noble emotion,
+  Said "This amply repays all the wearisome days
+    We have spent on the billowy ocean!"
+
+  Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
+    Have seldom if ever been known;
+  In winter or summer, 'twas always the same--
+    You could never meet either alone.
+
+  And when quarrels arose--as one frequently finds
+    Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour--
+  The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
+    And cemented their friendship for ever!
+
+
+Fit the Sixth.
+
+_THE BARRISTER'S DREAM._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
+    That the Beaver's lace-making was wrong,
+  Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
+    That his fancy had dwelt on so long.
+
+  He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
+    Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
+  Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
+    On the charge of deserting its sty.
+
+[Illustration: "'YOU MUST KNOW--' SAID THE JUDGE: BUT THE SNARK EXCLAIMED
+'FUDGE!'"]
+
+  The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
+    That the sty was deserted when found:
+  And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
+    In a soft under-current of sound.
+
+  The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
+    And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
+  And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
+    What the pig was supposed to have done.
+
+  The Jury had each formed a different view
+    (Long before the indictment was read),
+  And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
+    One word that the others had said.
+
+  "You must know--" said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed "Fudge!
+    That statute is obsolete quite!
+  Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
+    On an ancient manorial right.
+
+  "In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
+    To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
+  While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
+    If you grant the plea 'never indebted.'
+
+  "The fact of Desertion I will not dispute:
+    But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
+  (So far as relates to the costs of this suit)
+    By the Alibi which has been proved.
+
+  "My poor client's fate now depends on your votes."
+    Here the speaker sat down in his place,
+  And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
+    And briefly to sum up the case.
+
+  But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
+    So the Snark undertook it instead,
+  And summed it so well that it came to far more
+    Than the Witnesses ever had said!
+
+  When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
+    As the word was so puzzling to spell;
+  But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn't mind
+    Undertaking that duty as well.
+
+  So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
+    It was spent with the toils of the day:
+  When it said the word "GUILTY!" the Jury all groaned
+    And some of them fainted away.
+
+  Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
+    Too nervous to utter a word:
+  When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
+    And the fall of a pin might be heard.
+
+  "Transportation for life" was the sentence it gave,
+    "And _then_ to be fined forty pound."
+  The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
+    That the phrase was not legally sound.
+
+  But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
+    When the jailer informed them, with tears,
+  Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,
+    As the pig had been dead for some years.
+
+  The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:
+    But the Snark, though a little aghast,
+  As the lawyer to whom the defence was intrusted,
+    Went bellowing on to the last.
+
+  Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
+    To grow every moment more clear:
+  Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
+    Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.
+
+
+Fit the Seventh.
+
+_THE BANKER'S FATE._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
+    It was matter for general remark,
+  Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
+    In his zeal to discover the Snark.
+
+  But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
+    A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
+  And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
+    For he knew it was useless to fly.
+
+  He offered large discount--he offered a cheque
+    (Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
+  But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
+    And grabbed at the Banker again.
+
+  Without rest or pause--while those frumious jaws
+    Went savagely snapping around--
+  He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
+    Till fainting he fell to the ground.
+
+  The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
+    Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
+  And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
+    And solemnly tolled on his bell.
+
+  He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
+    The least likeness to what he had been:
+  While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white--
+    A wonderful thing to be seen!
+
+[Illustration: "SO GREAT WAS HIS FRIGHT THAT HIS WAISTCOAT TURNED WHITE."]
+
+  To the horror of all who were present that day,
+    He uprose in full evening dress,
+  And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
+    What his tongue could no longer express.
+
+  Down he sank in a chair--ran his hands through his hair--
+    And chanted in mimsiest tones
+  Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
+    While he rattled a couple of bones.
+
+  "Leave him here to his fate--it is getting so late!"
+    The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
+  "We have lost half the day. Any further delay,
+    And we sha'n't catch a Snark before night!"
+
+
+Fit the Eighth.
+
+_THE VANISHING._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
+    And the Beaver, excited at last,
+  Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
+    For the daylight was nearly past.
+
+  "There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said.
+    "He is shouting like mad, only hark!
+  He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
+    He has certainly found a Snark!"
+
+  They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
+    "He was always a desperate wag!"
+  They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed--
+    On the top of a neighbouring crag,
+
+  Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
+    In the next, that wild figure they saw
+  (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
+    While they waited and listened in awe.
+
+  "It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
+    And seemed almost too good to be true.
+  Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
+    Then the ominous words "It's a Boo--"
+
+  Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
+    A weary and wandering sigh
+  That sounded like "--jum!" but the others declare
+    It was only a breeze that went by.
+
+[Illustration: "THEN, SILENCE"]
+
+  They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
+    Not a button, or feather, or mark,
+  By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
+    Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
+
+  In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
+    In the midst of his laughter and glee,
+  He had softly and suddenly vanished away--
+    For the Snark _was_ a Boojum, you see.
+
+
+
+
+SIZE AND TEARS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  When on the sandy shore I sit,
+    Beside the salt sea-wave,
+  And fall into a weeping fit
+    Because I dare not shave--
+  A little whisper at my ear
+  Enquires the reason of my fear.
+
+  I answer "If that ruffian Jones
+    Should recognise me here,
+  He'd bellow out my name in tones
+    Offensive to the ear:
+  He chaffs me so on being stout
+  (A thing that always puts me out)."
+
+  Ah me! I see him on the cliff!
+    Farewell, farewell to hope,
+  If he should look this way, and if
+    He's got his telescope!
+  To whatsoever place I flee,
+  My odious rival follows me!
+
+  For every night, and everywhere,
+    I meet him out at dinner;
+  And when I've found some charming fair,
+    And vowed to die or win her,
+  The wretch (he's thin and I am stout)
+  Is sure to come and cut me out!
+
+[Illustration: "HE'S THIN AND I AM STOUT"]
+
+  The girls (just like them!) all agree
+    To praise J. Jones, Esquire:
+  I ask them what on earth they see
+    About him to admire?
+  They cry "He is so sleek and slim,
+  It's quite a treat to look at him!"
+
+  They vanish in tobacco smoke,
+    Those visionary maids--
+  I feel a sharp and sudden poke
+    Between the shoulder-blades--
+  "Why, Brown, my boy! You're growing stout!"
+  (I told you he would find me out!)
+
+  "My growth is not _your_ business, Sir!"
+    "No more it is, my boy!
+  But if it's _yours_, as I infer,
+    Why, Brown, I give you joy!
+  A man, whose business prospers so,
+  Is just the sort of man to know!
+
+  "It's hardly safe, though, talking here--
+    I'd best get out of reach:
+  For such a weight as yours, I fear,
+    Must shortly sink the beach!"--
+
+  Insult me thus because I'm stout!
+  I vow I'll go and call him out!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN.
+
+
+            Ay, 'twas here, on this spot,
+              In that summer of yore,
+            Atalanta did not
+              Vote my presence a bore,
+  Nor reply to my tenderest talk "She had heard all that nonsense before."
+
+            She'd the brooch I had bought
+              And the necklace and sash on,
+            And her heart, as I thought,
+              Was alive to my passion;
+  And she'd done up her hair in the style that the Empress had brought
+    into fashion.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+            I had been to the play
+              With my pearl of a Peri--
+            But, for all I could say,
+              She declared she was weary,
+  That "the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn't abide that
+    Dundreary."
+
+            Then I thought "'Tis for me
+              That she whines and she whimpers!"
+            And it soothed me to see
+              Those sensational simpers,
+  And I said "This is scrumptious!"--a phrase I had learned from the
+    Devonshire shrimpers.
+
+            And I vowed "'Twill be said
+              I'm a fortunate fellow,
+            When the breakfast is spread,
+              When the topers are mellow,
+  When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce orange-blossoms
+    are yellow!"
+
+            O that languishing yawn!
+              O those eloquent eyes!
+            I was drunk with the dawn
+              Of a splendid surmise--
+  I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by a tempest of sighs.
+
+            And I whispered "'Tis time!
+              Is not Love at its deepest?
+            Shall we squander Life's prime,
+              While thou waitest and weepest?
+  Let us settle it, License or Banns?--though undoubtedly Banns are the
+    cheapest."
+
+            "Ah, my Hero," said I,
+              "Let me be thy Leander!"
+            But I lost her reply--
+              Something ending with "gander"--
+  For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could quite understand
+    her.
+
+
+
+
+THE LANG COORTIN'.
+
+
+  The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
+      Wi' her doggie at her feet;
+  Thorough the lattice she can spy
+      The passers in the street.
+
+  "There's one that standeth at the door,
+      And tirleth at the pin:
+  Now speak and say, my popinjay,
+      If I sall let him in."
+
+  Then up and spake the popinjay
+      That flew abune her head:
+  "Gae let him in that tirls the pin:
+      He cometh thee to wed."
+
+  O when he cam' the parlour in,
+      A woeful man was he!
+  "And dinna ye ken your lover agen,
+      Sae well that loveth thee?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir,
+      That have been sae lang away?
+  And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir?
+      Ye never telled me sae."
+
+  Said--"Ladye dear," and the salt, salt tear
+      Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek,
+  "I have sent thee tokens of my love
+      This many and many a week.
+
+  "O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,
+      The rings o' the gowd sae fine?
+  I wot that I have sent to thee
+      Four score, four score and nine."
+
+  "They cam' to me," said that fair ladye.
+      "Wow, they were flimsie things!"
+  Said--"that chain o' gowd, my doggie to howd,
+      It is made o' thae self-same rings."
+
+  "And didna ye get the locks, the locks,
+      The locks o' my ain black hair,
+  Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,
+      Whilk I sent by the carrier?"
+
+  "They cam' to me," said that fair ladye;
+      "And I prithee send nae mair!"
+  Said--"that cushion sae red, for my doggie's head,
+      It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair."
+
+  "And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,
+      Tied wi' a silken string,
+  Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,
+      A message of love to bring?"
+
+  "It cam' to me frae the far countrie
+      Wi' its silken string and a';
+  But it wasna prepaid," said that high-born maid,
+      "Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'."
+
+  "O ever alack that ye sent it back,
+      It was written sae clerkly and well!
+  Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,
+      I must even say it mysel'."
+
+  Then up and spake the popinjay,
+      Sae wisely counselled he.
+  "Now say it in the proper way:
+      Gae doon upon thy knee!"
+
+  The lover he turned baith red and pale,
+      Went doon upon his knee:
+  "O Ladye, hear the waesome tale
+      That must be told to thee!
+
+  "For five lang years, and five lang years,
+      I coorted thee by looks;
+  By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,
+      As I had read in books.
+
+  "For ten lang years, O weary hours!
+      I coorted thee by signs;
+  By sending game, by sending flowers,
+      By sending Valentines.
+
+  "For five lang years, and five lang years,
+      I have dwelt in the far countrie,
+  Till that thy mind should be inclined
+      Mair tenderly to me.
+
+  "Now thirty years are gane and past,
+      I am come frae a foreign land:
+  I am come to tell thee my love at last--
+      O Ladye, gie me thy hand!"
+
+  The ladye she turned not pale nor red,
+      But she smiled a pitiful smile:
+  "Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man," she said
+      "Takes a lang and a weary while!"
+
+  And out and laughed the popinjay,
+      A laugh of bitter scorn:
+  "A coortin' done in sic' a way,
+      It ought not to be borne!"
+
+[Illustration: "AND OUT AND LAUGHED THE POPINJAY"]
+
+  Wi' that the doggie barked aloud,
+      And up and doon he ran,
+  And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd,
+      All for to bite the man.
+
+  "O hush thee, gentle popinjay!
+      O hush thee, doggie dear!
+  There is a word I fain wad say,
+      It needeth he should hear!"
+
+  Aye louder screamed that ladye fair
+      To drown her doggie's bark:
+  Ever the lover shouted mair
+      To make that ladye hark:
+
+  Shrill and more shrill the popinjay
+      Upraised his angry squall:
+  I trow the doggie's voice that day
+      Was louder than them all!
+
+  The serving-men and serving-maids
+      Sat by the kitchen fire:
+  They heard sic' a din the parlour within
+      As made them much admire.
+
+[Illustration: "O HUSH THEE, GENTLE POPINJAY!"]
+
+  Out spake the boy in buttons
+      (I ween he wasna thin),
+  "Now wha will tae the parlour gae,
+      And stay this deadlie din?"
+
+  And they have taen a kerchief,
+      Casted their kevils in,
+  For wha should tae the parlour gae,
+      And stay that deadlie din.
+
+  When on that boy the kevil fell
+      To stay the fearsome noise,
+  "Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide,
+      Thou prince of button-boys!"
+
+  Syne, he has taen a supple cane
+      To swinge that dog sae fat:
+  The doggie yowled, the doggie howled
+      The louder aye for that.
+
+  Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane--
+      The doggie ceased his noise,
+  And followed doon the kitchen stair
+      That prince of button-boys!
+
+[Illustration: "THE DOGGIE CEASED HIS NOISE"]
+
+  Then sadly spake that ladye fair,
+      Wi' a frown upon her brow:
+  "O dearer to me is my sma' doggie
+      Than a dozen sic' as thou!
+
+  "Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:
+      Nae use at all to fret:
+  Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years,
+      Ye may bide a wee langer yet!"
+
+  Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor
+      And tirl�d at the pin:
+  Sadly went he through the door
+      Where sadly he cam' in.
+
+  "O gin I had a popinjay
+      To fly abune my head,
+  To tell me what I ought to say,
+      I had by this been wed.
+
+  "O gin I find anither ladye,"
+      He said wi' sighs and tears,
+  "I wot my coortin' sall not be
+      Anither thirty years:
+
+  "For gin I find a ladye gay,
+      Exactly to my taste,
+  I'll pop the question, aye or nay,
+      In twenty years at maist."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+FOUR RIDDLES.
+
+[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades.
+
+No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had gone to a
+ball at an Oxford Commemoration--and also as a specimen of what might be
+done by making the Double Acrostic _a connected poem_ instead of what it
+has hitherto been, a string of disjointed stanzas, on every conceivable
+subject, and about as interesting to read straight through as a page of a
+Cyclop�dia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each
+subsequent stanza one of the cross "lights."
+
+No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the play of
+"Hamlet." In this case the first stanza describes the two main words.
+
+No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr.
+Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and Galatea." The three stanzas respectively
+describe "My First," "My Second," and "My Whole."]
+
+
+I.
+
+  There was an ancient City, stricken down
+    With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
+  They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
+              And danced the night away.
+
+  I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
+    They pointed to a building gray and tall,
+  And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad,
+              And then you'll see it all."
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Yet what are all such gaieties to me
+    Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?
+  x{2} + 7x + 53
+              = 11/3.
+
+  But something whispered "It will soon be done:
+    Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
+  Endure with patience the distasteful fun
+              For just a little while!"
+
+  A change came o'er my Vision--it was night:
+    We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:
+  The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:
+              The chariots whirled along.
+
+  Within a marble hall a river ran--
+    A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:
+  And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,
+              Yet swallowed down her wrath;
+
+  And here one offered to a thirsty fair
+    (His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful)
+  Some frozen viand (there were many there),
+              A tooth-ache in each spoonful.
+
+  There comes a happy pause, for human strength
+    Will not endure to dance without cessation;
+  And every one must reach the point at length
+              Of absolute prostration.
+
+  At such a moment ladies learn to give,
+    To partners who would urge them over-much,
+  A flat and yet decided negative--
+              Photographers love such.
+
+  There comes a welcome summons--hope revives,
+    And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken:
+  Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives
+              Dispense the tongue and chicken.
+
+  Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again:
+    And all is tangled talk and mazy motion--
+  Much like a waving field of golden grain,
+              Or a tempestuous ocean.
+
+  And thus they give the time, that Nature meant
+    For peaceful sleep and meditative snores,
+  To ceaseless din and mindless merriment
+              And waste of shoes and floors.
+
+  And One (we name him not) that flies the flowers,
+    That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads,
+  They doom to pass in solitude the hours,
+              Writing acrostic-ballads.
+
+  How late it grows! The hour is surely past
+    That should have warned us with its double-knock?
+  The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last--
+              "Oh, Uncle, what's o'clock?"
+
+  The Uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks.
+    It _may_ mean much, but how is one to know?
+  He opes his mouth--yet out of it, methinks,
+              No words of wisdom flow.
+
+
+II.
+
+  Empress of Art, for thee I twine
+    This wreath with all too slender skill.
+  Forgive my Muse each halting line,
+    And for the deed accept the will!
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,
+    Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love?
+  Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,
+    By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?
+
+  And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,
+    Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:
+  And these wild words of fury but proclaim
+    A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!
+
+  But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown,
+    Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!
+  "Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan,
+    "Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!"
+
+  A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire
+    Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile!
+  And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar?
+    And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile?
+
+  Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways
+    And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers:
+  In holy silence wait the appointed days,
+    And weep away the leaden-footed hours.
+
+
+III.
+
+  The air is bright with hues of light
+    And rich with laughter and with singing:
+  Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,
+    And banners wave, and bells are ringing:
+  But silence falls with fading day,
+  And there's an end to mirth and play.
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+  Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!
+    The kettle sings, the firelight dances.
+  Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught
+    That fills the soul with golden fancies!
+  For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,
+  And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+  O fair cold face! O form of grace,
+    For human passion madly yearning!
+  O weary air of dumb despair,
+    From marble won, to marble turning!
+  "Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
+  "We cannot let thee pass away!"
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+
+IV.
+
+  My First is singular at best:
+      More plural is my Second:
+  My Third is far the pluralest--
+  So plural-plural, I protest
+      It scarcely can be reckoned!
+
+  My First is followed by a bird:
+      My Second by believers
+  In magic art: my simple Third
+  Follows, too often, hopes absurd
+      And plausible deceivers.
+
+  My First to get at wisdom tries--
+      A failure melancholy!
+  My Second men revered as wise:
+  My Third from heights of wisdom flies
+      To depths of frantic folly.
+
+  My First is ageing day by day:
+      My Second's age is ended:
+  My Third enjoys an age, they say,
+  That never seems to fade away,
+      Through centuries extended.
+
+  My Whole? I need a poet's pen
+      To paint her myriad phases:
+  The monarch, and the slave, of men--
+  A mountain-summit, and a den
+      Of dark and deadly mazes--
+
+  A flashing light--a fleeting shade--
+      Beginning, end, and middle
+  Of all that human art hath made
+  Or wit devised! Go, seek _her_ aid,
+      If you would read my riddle!
+
+
+
+
+FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET.
+
+[Affectionately dedicated to all "original researchers" who pant for
+"endowment."]
+
+
+  Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack,
+    Ye little men of little souls!
+  And bid them huddle at your back--
+    Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals!
+
+  Fill all the air with hungry wails--
+    "Reward us, ere we think or write!
+  Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails
+    To sate the swinish appetite!"
+
+  And, where great Plato paced serene,
+    Or Newton paused with wistful eye,
+  Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean
+    And Babel-clamour of the sty!
+
+  Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise:
+    We will not rob them of their due,
+  Nor vex the ghosts of other days
+    By naming them along with you.
+
+  They sought and found undying fame:
+    They toiled not for reward nor thanks:
+  Their cheeks are hot with honest shame
+    For you, the modern mountebanks!
+
+  Who preach of Justice--plead with tears
+    That Love and Mercy should abound--
+  While marking with complacent ears
+    The moaning of some tortured hound:
+
+  Who prate of Wisdom--nay, forbear,
+    Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath,
+  Trampling, with heel that will not spare,
+    The vermin that beset her path!
+
+  Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms,
+    Ye idols of a petty clique:
+  Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,
+    And make your penny-trumpets squeak:
+
+[Illustration: "GO, THRONG EACH OTHER'S DRAWING-ROOMS"]
+
+  Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
+    Of learning from a nobler time,
+  And oil each other's little heads
+    With mutual Flattery's golden slime:
+
+  And when the topmost height ye gain,
+    And stand in Glory's ether clear,
+  And grasp the prize of all your pain--
+    So many hundred pounds a year--
+
+  Then let Fame's banner be unfurled!
+    Sing P�ans for a victory won!
+  Ye tapers, that would light the world,
+    And cast a shadow on the Sun--
+
+  Who still shall pour His rays sublime,
+    One crystal flood, from East to West,
+  When ye have burned your little time
+    And feebly flickered into rest!
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+[TURN OVER.
+
+
+
+
+WORKS BY LEWIS CARROLL.
+
+
+ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. With Forty-two Illustrations by TENNIEL.
+Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._ Seventy-first Thousand.
+
+TRANSLATIONS OF THE SAME--into French, by HENRI BU�--into German, by
+ANTONIE ZIMMERMANN--and into Italian, by T. PIETROC�LA ROSSETTI--with
+TENNIEL'S Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._ each.
+
+THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS, AND WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE. With Fifty
+Illustrations by TENNIEL. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._
+Fifty-second Thousand.
+
+RHYME? AND REASON? With Sixty-five Illustrations by ARTHUR B. FROST, and
+Nine by HENRY HOLIDAY. (This book is a reprint, with a few additions, of
+the comic portion of "Phantasmagoria and other Poems," and of "The Hunting
+of the Snark." Mr. Frost's pictures are new.) Crown 8vo, cloth, coloured
+edges, price 7_s._
+
+
+N.B. In selling the above-mentioned books to the Trade, Messrs. Macmillan
+and Co. will abate 2_d._ in the shilling (no odd copies), and allow 5 per
+cent. discount for payment within six months, and 10 per cent. for cash.
+In selling them to the Public (for cash only) they will allow 10 per cent.
+discount.
+
+
+MR. LEWIS CARROLL, having been requested to allow "AN EASTER GREETING" (a
+leaflet, addressed to children, and frequently given with his books) to be
+sold separately, has arranged with Messrs. HARRISON, of 59, Pall Mall, who
+will supply a single copy for 1_d._, or 12 for 9_d._, or 100 for 5_s._
+
+
+MACMILLAN & CO., LONDON.
+
+LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_.
+
+Superscripted characters are indicated by {superscript}.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Rhyme? And Reason?
+
+Author: Lewis Carroll
+
+Illustrator: Arthur B.  Frost
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2010 [EBook #33582]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYME? AND REASON? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""
+id="coverpage" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h1>RHYME?<br />AND REASON?</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i002.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i004.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;UPON A BATTLEMENT.&#8221;</small><span class="spacer">&nbsp;</span>[<i>See</i> p. <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>RHYME?<br />AND REASON?</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>LEWIS CARROLL</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><i>WITH SIXTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS</i><br />BY<br />ARTHUR B. FROST<br /><br />
+<i>AND NINE</i><br />BY<br />HENRY HOLIDAY</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">I have had nor rhyme nor reason</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><i>PRICE SEVEN SHILLINGS</i><br />London<br />
+MACMILLAN AND CO.<br />1883<br />[<i>All Rights Reserved</i>]</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">London:<br /><span class="smcap">R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor</span><br />BREAD STREET HILL, E.C.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+
+<p class="center"><big>Inscribed to a dear Child:<br />
+in memory of golden summer hours<br />
+and whispers of a summer sea.</big></p>
+<hr style='width: 5%;' />
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well</span><br />
+Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The tale one loves to tell.</span><br />
+<br />
+Rude scoffer of the seething outer strife,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright,</span><br />
+Deem, if thou wilt, such hours a waste of life,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Empty of all delight!</span><br />
+<br />
+Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled;</span><br />
+Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The heart-love of a child!</span><br />
+<br />
+Away, fond thoughts, and vex my soul no more!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Work claims my wakeful nights, my busy days</span><br />
+Albeit bright memories of that sunlit shore<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Yet haunt my dreaming gaze!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="note">[Of the following poems, <span class="smcap">Echoes</span>, <span class="smcap">A Game of Fives</span>, the last three of the
+<span class="smcap">Four Riddles</span>, and <span class="smcap">Fame&#8217;s Penny-Trumpet</span>, are here published for the first
+time. The others have all appeared before, as have also the illustrations to <span class="smcap">The Hunting of the Snark</span>.]</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Phantasmagoria</span>, in Seven Cantos:&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I.</span></td><td>The Trystyng</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">II.</span></td><td>Hys Fyve Rules</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">III.</span></td><td>Scarmoges</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">IV.</span></td><td>Hys Nouryture</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">V.</span></td><td>Byckerment</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">VI.</span></td><td>Dyscomfyture</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">VII.</span></td><td>Sad Souvenaunce</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Echoes</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">A Sea Dirge</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Y<sup>e</sup> Carpette Knyghte</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Hiawatha&#8217;s Photographing</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Melancholetta</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">A Valentine</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">The Three Voices</span>:</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span style="margin-left: 3em;">The First Voice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span style="margin-left: 3em;">The Second Voice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span style="margin-left: 3em;">The Third Voice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">T&egrave;ma Con Variazi&oacute;ni</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">A Game of Fives</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Poeta fit, non nascitur</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">The Hunting of the Snark</span>, an Agony in Eight Fits:&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Landing</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">II.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Bellman&#8217;s Speech</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">III.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Baker&#8217;s Tale</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">IV.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Hunting</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">V.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Beaver&#8217;s Lesson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">VI.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Barrister&#8217;s Dream</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">VII.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Banker&#8217;s Fate</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">VIII.</span></td><td><span class="smcap">The Vanishing</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Size and Tears</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Atalanta in Camden Town</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">The Lang Coortin&#8217;</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Four Riddles</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Fame&#8217;s Penny-Trumpet</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PHANTASMAGORIA.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>CANTO I.</h3>
+<h4>The Trystyng.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>One winter night, at half-past nine,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,</span><br />
+I had come home, too late to dine,<br />
+And supper, with cigars and wine,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was waiting in the study.</span><br />
+<br />
+There was a strangeness in the room,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Something white and wavy</span><br />
+Was standing near me in the gloom&mdash;<br />
+<i>I</i> took it for the carpet-broom<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Left by that careless slavey.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i014.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>But presently the Thing began<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To shiver and to sneeze:</span><br />
+On which I said &#8220;Come, come, my man!<br />
+That&#8217;s a most inconsiderate plan.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Less noise there, if you please!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve caught a cold,&#8221; the Thing replies,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Out there upon the landing.&#8221;</span><br />
+I turned to look in some surprise,<br />
+And there, before my very eyes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little Ghost was standing!</span><br />
+<br />
+He trembled when he caught my eye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And got behind a chair.</span><br />
+&#8220;How came you here,&#8221; I said, &#8220;and why?<br />
+I never saw a thing so shy.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Come out! Don&#8217;t shiver there!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+He said &#8220;I&#8217;d gladly tell you how,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And also tell you why;</span><br />
+But&#8221; (here he gave a little bow)<br />
+&#8220;You&#8217;re in so bad a temper now,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You&#8217;d think it all a lie.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And as to being in a fright,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Allow me to remark</span><br />
+That Ghosts have just as good a right,<br />
+In every way, to fear the light,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As Men to fear the dark.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;No plea,&#8221; said I, &#8220;can well excuse<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Such cowardice in you:</span><br />
+For Ghosts can visit when they choose,<br />
+Whereas we Humans ca&#8217;n&#8217;t refuse<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To grant the interview.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+He said &#8220;A flutter of alarm<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is not unnatural, is it?</span><br />
+I really feared you meant some harm:<br />
+But, now I see that you are calm,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let me explain my visit.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Houses are classed, I beg to state,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">According to the number</span><br />
+Of Ghosts that they accommodate:<br />
+(The Tenant merely counts as <i>weight</i>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With Coals and other lumber).</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;This is a &#8216;one-ghost&#8217; house, and you<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When you arrived last summer,</span><br />
+May have remarked a Spectre who<br />
+Was doing all that Ghosts can do<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To welcome the new-comer.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;In Villas this is always done&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">However cheaply rented:</span><br />
+For, though of course there&#8217;s less of fun<br />
+When there is only room for one,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ghosts have to be contented.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That Spectre left you on the Third&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Since then you&#8217;ve not been haunted:</span><br />
+For, as he never sent us word,<br />
+&#8217;Twas quite by accident we heard<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That any one was wanted.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;A Spectre has first choice, by right,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In filling up a vacancy;</span><br />
+Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite&mdash;<br />
+If all these fail them, they invite<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The nicest Ghoul that they can see.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Spectres said the place was low,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And that you kept bad wine:</span><br />
+So, as a Phantom had to go,<br />
+And I was first, of course, you know,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I couldn&#8217;t well decline.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;No doubt,&#8221; said I, &#8220;they settled who<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was fittest to be sent:</span><br />
+Yet still to choose a brat like you,<br />
+To haunt a man of forty-two,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was no great compliment!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;m not so young, Sir,&#8221; he replied,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;As you might think. The fact is,</span><br />
+In caverns by the water-side,<br />
+And other places that I&#8217;ve tried,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I&#8217;ve had a lot of practice:</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;But I have never taken yet<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A strict domestic part,</span><br />
+And in my flurry I forget<br />
+The Five Good Rules of Etiquette<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We have to know by heart.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+My sympathies were warming fast<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Towards the little fellow:</span><br />
+He was so utterly aghast<br />
+At having found a Man at last,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And looked so scared and yellow.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i019.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;IN CAVERNS BY THE WATER-SIDE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;At least,&#8221; I said, &#8220;I&#8217;m glad to find<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Ghost is not a <i>dumb</i> thing!</span><br />
+But pray sit down: you&#8217;ll feel inclined<br />
+(If, like myself, you have not dined)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To take a snack of something:</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Though, certainly, you don&#8217;t appear<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A thing to offer <i>food</i> to!</span><br />
+And then I shall be glad to hear&mdash;<br />
+If you will say them loud and clear&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Rules that you allude to.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Thanks! You shall hear them by and by<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This <i>is</i> a piece of luck!&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;What may I offer you?&#8221; said I.<br />
+&#8220;Well, since you <i>are</i> so kind, I&#8217;ll try<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little bit of duck.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;<i>One</i> slice! And may I ask you for<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Another drop of gravy?&#8221;</span><br />
+I sat and looked at him in awe,<br />
+For certainly I never saw<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A thing so white and wavy.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i021.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>And still he seemed to grow more white,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">More vapoury, and wavier&mdash;</span><br />
+Seen in the dim and flickering light,<br />
+As he proceeded to recite<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">His &#8220;Maxims of Behaviour.&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO II.</h3>
+<h4>Hys Fyve Rules.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;My First&mdash;but don&#8217;t suppose,&#8221; he said,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;I&#8217;m setting you a riddle&mdash;</span><br />
+Is&mdash;if your Victim be in bed,<br />
+Don&#8217;t touch the curtains at his head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But take them in the middle,</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And wave them slowly in and out,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While drawing them asunder;</span><br />
+And in a minute&#8217;s time, no doubt,<br />
+He&#8217;ll raise his head and look about<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With eyes of wrath and wonder.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And here you must on no pretence<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Make the first observation.</span><br />
+Wait for the Victim to commence:<br />
+No Ghost of any common sense<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Begins a conversation.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table">
+<tr><td valign="top" rowspan="2"><img src="images/i023left.jpg" alt="" /></td><td valign="top"><img src="images/i023right.jpg" alt="" /></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&#8220;If he should say &#8216;<i>How came you here?</i>&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(The way that <i>you</i> began, Sir,)</span><br />
+In such a case your course is clear&mdash;<br />
+&#8216;<i>On the bat&#8217;s back, my little dear!</i>&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is the appropriate answer.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;If after this he says no more,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You&#8217;d best perhaps curtail your</span><br />
+Exertions&mdash;go and shake the door,<br />
+And then, if he begins to snore,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You&#8217;ll know the thing&#8217;s a failure.</span></td></tr></table>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;By day, if he should be alone&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At home or on a walk&mdash;</span><br />
+You merely give a hollow groan,<br />
+To indicate the kind of tone<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In which you mean to talk.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;But if you find him with his friends,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The thing is rather harder.</span><br />
+In such a case success depends<br />
+On picking up some candle-ends,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or butter, in the larder.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;With this you make a kind of slide<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(It answers best with suet),</span><br />
+On which you must contrive to glide,<br />
+And swing yourself from side to side&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One soon learns how to do it.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Second tells us what is right<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In ceremonious calls:&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8216;<i>First burn a blue or crimson light</i>&#8217;<br />
+(A thing I quite forgot to-night),<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8216;<i>Then scratch the door or walls.</i>&#8217;&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i025.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AND SWING YOURSELF FROM SIDE TO SIDE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>I said &#8220;You&#8217;ll visit <i>here</i> no more,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If you attempt the Guy.</span><br />
+I&#8217;ll have no bonfires on <i>my</i> floor&mdash;<br />
+And, as for scratching at the door,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I&#8217;d like to see you try!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Third was written to protect<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The interests of the Victim,</span><br />
+And tells us, as I recollect,<br />
+<i>To treat him with a grave respect,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And not to contradict him</i>.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That&#8217;s plain,&#8221; said I, &#8220;as Tare and Tret,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To any comprehension:</span><br />
+I only wish <i>some</i> Ghosts I&#8217;ve met<br />
+Would not so <i>constantly</i> forget<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The maxim that you mention!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Perhaps,&#8221; he said, &#8220;<i>you</i> first transgressed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The laws of hospitality:</span><br />
+All Ghosts instinctively detest<br />
+The Man that fails to treat his guest<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With proper cordiality.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i027.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;If you address a Ghost as &#8216;Thing!&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or strike him with a hatchet,</span><br />
+He is permitted by the King<br />
+To drop all <i>formal</i> parleying&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And then you&#8217;re <i>sure</i> to catch it!</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;The Fourth prohibits trespassing<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where other Ghosts are quartered:</span><br />
+And those convicted of the thing<br />
+(Unless when pardoned by the King)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Must instantly be slaughtered.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That simply means &#8216;be cut up small&#8217;:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ghosts soon unite anew:</span><br />
+The process scarcely hurts at all&mdash;<br />
+Not more than when <i>you&#8217;re</i> what you call<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8216;Cut up&#8217; by a Review.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Fifth is one you may prefer<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That I should quote entire:&mdash;</span><br />
+<i>The King must be addressed as &#8216;Sir.&#8217;</i><br />
+<i>This, from a simple courtier,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Is all the Laws require</i>:</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;<i>But, should you wish to do the thing</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>With out-and-out politeness,</i></span><br />
+<i>Accost him as &#8216;My Goblin King!&#8217;</i><br />
+<i>And always use, in answering,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The phrase &#8216;Your Royal Whiteness!&#8217;</i></span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;m getting rather hoarse, I fear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">After so much reciting:</span><br />
+So, if you don&#8217;t object, my dear,<br />
+We&#8217;ll try a glass of bitter beer&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think it looks inviting.&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i029.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO III.</h3>
+<h4>Scarmoges.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;And did you really walk,&#8221; said I,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;On such a wretched night?</span><br />
+I always fancied Ghosts could fly&mdash;<br />
+If not exactly in the sky,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet at a fairish height.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It&#8217;s very well,&#8221; said he, &#8220;for Kings<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To soar above the earth:</span><br />
+But Phantoms often find that wings&mdash;<br />
+Like many other pleasant things&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cost more than they are worth.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Spectres of course are rich, and so<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Can buy them from the Elves:</span><br />
+But <i>we</i> prefer to keep below&mdash;<br />
+They&#8217;re stupid company, you know.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For any but themselves:</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i031.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;For, though they claim to be exempt<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">From pride, they treat a Phantom</span><br />
+As something quite beneath contempt&mdash;<br />
+Just as no Turkey ever dreamt<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of noticing a Bantam.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;They seem too proud,&#8221; said I, &#8220;to go<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To houses such as mine.</span><br />
+Pray, how did they contrive to know<br />
+So quickly that &#8216;the place was low,&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And that I &#8216;kept bad wine&#8217;?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Inspector Kobold came to you&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The little Ghost began.</span><br />
+Here I broke in&mdash;&#8220;Inspector who?<br />
+Inspecting Ghosts is something new!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Explain yourself my man!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;His name is Kobold,&#8221; said my guest:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;One of the Spectre order:</span><br />
+You&#8217;ll very often see him dressed<br />
+In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a night-cap with a border.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;He tried the Brocken business first,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But caught a sort of chill;</span><br />
+So came to England to be nursed,<br />
+And here it took the form of <i>thirst</i>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Which he complains of still.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i033.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AND HERE IT TOOK THE FORM OF <i>THIRST</i>&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Warms his old bones like nectar:</span><br />
+And as the inns, where it is found,<br />
+Are his especial hunting-ground,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We call him the <i>Inn-Spectre</i>.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+I bore it&mdash;bore it like a man&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This agonizing witticism!</span><br />
+And nothing could be sweeter than<br />
+My temper, till the Ghost began<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Some most provoking criticism.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Cooks need not be indulged in waste;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet still you&#8217;d better teach them</span><br />
+Dishes should have <i>some sort</i> of taste.<br />
+Pray, why are all the cruets placed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where nobody can reach them?</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That man of yours will never earn<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">His living as a waiter!</span><br />
+Is that queer <i>thing</i> supposed to burn?<br />
+(It&#8217;s far too dismal a concern<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To call a Moderator).</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;The duck was tender, but the peas<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Were very much too old:</span><br />
+And just remember, if you please,<br />
+The <i>next</i> time you have toasted cheese,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don&#8217;t let them send it cold.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;You&#8217;d find the bread improved, I think,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By getting better flour:</span><br />
+And have you anything to drink<br />
+That looks a <i>little</i> less like ink,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And isn&#8217;t <i>quite</i> so sour?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then, peering round with curious eyes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He muttered &#8220;Goodness gracious!&#8221;</span><br />
+And so went on to criticise&mdash;<br />
+&#8220;Your room&#8217;s an inconvenient size:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It&#8217;s neither snug nor spacious.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That narrow window, I expect,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Serves but to let the dusk in&mdash;&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;But please,&#8221; said I, &#8220;to recollect<br />
+&#8217;Twas fashioned by an architect<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t care who he was, Sir, or<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On whom he pinned his faith!</span><br />
+Constructed by whatever law,<br />
+So poor a job I never saw,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As I&#8217;m a living Wraith!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;What a re-markable cigar!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">How much are they a dozen?&#8221;</span><br />
+I growled &#8220;No matter what they are!<br />
+You&#8217;re getting as familiar<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As if you were my cousin!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Now that&#8217;s a thing <i>I will not stand</i>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And so I tell you flat.&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;Aha,&#8221; said he, &#8220;we&#8217;re getting grand!&#8221;<br />
+(Taking a bottle in his hand)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;I&#8217;ll soon arrange for <i>that</i>!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+And here he took a careful aim,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And gaily cried &#8220;Here goes!&#8221;</span><br />
+I tried to dodge it as it came,<br />
+But somehow caught it, all the same,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Exactly on my nose.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br />
+And I remember nothing more<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That I can clearly fix,</span><br />
+Till I was sitting on the floor,<br />
+Repeating &#8220;Two and five are four,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But <i>five and two</i> are six.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+What really passed I never learned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nor guessed: I only know</span><br />
+That, when at last my sense returned,<br />
+The lamp, neglected, dimly burned&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The fire was getting low&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Through driving mists I seemed to see<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Thing that smirked and smiled:</span><br />
+And found that he was giving me<br />
+A lesson in Biography,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As if I were a child.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO IV.</h3>
+<h4>Hys Nouryture.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table">
+<tr><td valign="top" rowspan="2"><img src="images/i038left.jpg" alt="" /></td><td valign="top"><img src="images/i038right.jpg" alt="" /></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&#8220;Oh, when I was a little Ghost,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A merry time had we!</span><br />
+Each seated on his favourite post,<br />
+We chumped and chawed the buttered toast<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They gave us for our tea.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;That story is in print!&#8221; I cried.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Don&#8217;t say it&#8217;s not, because</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>It&#8217;s known as well as Bradshaw&#8217;s Guide!&#8221;<br />
+(The Ghost uneasily replied<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He hardly thought it was).</span></td></tr></table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;It&#8217;s not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I almost think it is&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8216;Three little Ghosteses&#8217; were set<br />
+&#8216;On posteses,&#8217; you know, and ate<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their &#8216;buttered toasteses.&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I have the book; so, if you doubt it&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I turned to search the shelf.</span><br />
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t stir!&#8221; he cried. &#8220;We&#8217;ll do without it;<br />
+I now remember all about it;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I wrote the thing myself.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It came out in a &#8216;Monthly,&#8217; or<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At least my agent said it did:</span><br />
+Some literary swell, who saw<br />
+It, thought it seemed adapted for<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Magazine he edited.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;My father was a Brownie, Sir;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My mother was a Fairy.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>The notion had occurred to her,<br />
+The children would be happier,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If they were taught to vary.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The notion soon became a craze;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And, when it once began, she</span><br />
+Brought us all out in different ways&mdash;<br />
+One was a Pixy, two were Fays,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Another was a Banshee;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Fetch and Kelpie went to school,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And gave a lot of trouble;</span><br />
+Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,<br />
+And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Goblin, and a Double&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;(If that&#8217;s a snuff-box on the shelf,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He added with a yawn,</span><br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll take a pinch)&mdash;next came an Elf,<br />
+And then a Phantom (that&#8217;s myself),<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And last, a Leprechaun.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;One day, some Spectres chanced to call,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dressed in the usual white:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>I stood and watched them in the hall,<br />
+And couldn&#8217;t make them out at all,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They seemed so strange a sight.</span></td></tr></table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table">
+<tr><td valign="top"><img src="images/i041.jpg" alt="" /></td>
+<td>&#8220;I wondered what on earth they were,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That looked all head and sack;</span><br />
+But Mother told me not to stare,<br />
+And then she twitched me by the hair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And punched me in the back.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Since then I&#8217;ve often wished that I<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Had been a Spectre born.</span><br />
+But what&#8217;s the use?&#8221; (He heaved a sigh).<br />
+&#8220;<i>They</i> are the ghost-nobility,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And look on <i>us</i> with scorn.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;My phantom-life was soon begun:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I was barely six,</span><br />
+I went out with an older one&mdash;<br />
+And just at first I thought it fun,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And learned a lot of tricks.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve haunted dungeons, castles, towers&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wherever I was sent:</span><br />
+I&#8217;ve often sat and howled for hours,<br />
+Drenched to the skin with driving showers,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Upon a battlement.</span></td></tr></table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;It&#8217;s quite old-fashioned now to groan<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When you begin to speak:</span><br />
+This is the newest thing in tone&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+And here (it chilled me to the bone)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He gave an <i>awful</i> squeak.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Perhaps,&#8221; he added, &#8220;to <i>your</i> ear<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That sounds an easy thing?</span><br />
+Try it yourself, my little dear!<br />
+It took <i>me</i> something like a year,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With constant practising.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And when you&#8217;ve learned to squeak, my man<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And caught the double sob,</span><br />
+You&#8217;re pretty much where you began:<br />
+Just try and gibber if you can!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That&#8217;s something <i>like</i> a job!</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;<i>I&#8217;ve</i> tried it, and can only say<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I&#8217;m sure you couldn&#8217;t do it, e-</span><br />
+ven if you practised night and day,<br />
+Unless you have a turn that way,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And natural ingenuity.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Shakspeare I think it is who treats<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of Ghosts, in days of old,</span><br />
+Who &#8216;gibbered in the Roman streets,&#8217;<br />
+Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They must have found it cold.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve often spent ten pounds on stuff,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In dressing as a Double;</span><br />
+But, though it answers as a puff,<br />
+It never has effect enough<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To make it worth the trouble.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Long bills soon quenched the little thirst<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I had for being funny.</span><br />
+The setting-up is always worst:<br />
+Such heaps of things you want at first,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One must be made of money!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i044.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;For instance, take a Haunted Tower,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;</span><br />
+Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,<br />
+Condensing lens of extra power,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And set of chains complete:</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;What with the things you have to hire&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The fitting on the robe&mdash;</span><br />
+And testing all the coloured fire&mdash;<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>The outfit of itself would tire<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The patience of a Job!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And then they&#8217;re so fastidious,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Haunted-House Committee:</span><br />
+I&#8217;ve often known them make a fuss<br />
+Because a Ghost was French, or Russ,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or even from the City!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Some dialects are objected to&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For one, the <i>Irish</i> brogue is:</span><br />
+And then, for all you have to do,<br />
+One pound a week they offer you,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And find yourself in Bogies!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO V.</h3>
+<h4>Byckerment.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Don&#8217;t they consult the &#8216;Victims,&#8217; though?&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said. &#8220;They should, by rights,</span><br />
+Give them a chance&mdash;because, you know,<br />
+The tastes of people differ so,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Especially in Sprites.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The Phantom shook his head and smiled.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Consult them? Not a bit!</span><br />
+&#8217;Twould be a job to drive one wild,<br />
+To satisfy one single child&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">There&#8217;d be no end to it!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Of course you can&#8217;t leave <i>children</i> free,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Said I, &#8220;to pick and choose:</span><br />
+But, in the case of men like me,<br />
+I think &#8216;Mine Host&#8217; might fairly be<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Allowed to state his views.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br />
+He said &#8220;It really wouldn&#8217;t pay&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Folk are so full of fancies.</span><br />
+We visit for a single day,<br />
+And whether then we go, or stay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Depends on circumstances.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And, though we don&#8217;t consult &#8216;Mine Host&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Before the thing&#8217;s arranged,</span><br />
+Still, if he often quits his post,<br />
+Or is not a well-mannered Ghost,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then you can have him changed.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;But if the host&#8217;s a man like you&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I mean a man of sense;</span><br />
+And if the house is not too new&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+&#8220;Why, what has <i>that</i>,&#8221; said I, &#8220;to do<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With Ghost&#8217;s convenience?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;A new house does not suit, you know&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It&#8217;s such a job to trim it:</span><br />
+But, after twenty years or so,<br />
+The wainscotings begin to go,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">So twenty is the limit.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;To trim&#8221; was not a phrase I could<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Remember having heard:</span><br />
+&#8220;Perhaps,&#8221; I said, &#8220;you&#8217;ll be so good<br />
+As tell me what is understood<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Exactly by that word?&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i048.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;It means the loosening all the doors,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Ghost replied, and laughed:</span><br />
+&#8220;It means the drilling holes by scores<br />
+In all the skirting-boards and floors,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To make a thorough draught.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;You&#8217;ll sometimes find that one or two<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are all you really need</span><br />
+To let the wind come whistling through&mdash;<br />
+But <i>here</i> there&#8217;ll be a lot to do!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I faintly gasped &#8220;Indeed!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;If I&#8217;d been rather later, I&#8217;ll<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be bound,&#8221; I added, trying</span><br />
+(Most unsuccessfully) to smile,<br />
+&#8220;You&#8217;d have been busy all this while,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Trimming and beautifying?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Why, no,&#8221; said he; &#8220;perhaps I should<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have stayed another minute&mdash;</span><br />
+But still no Ghost, that&#8217;s any good,<br />
+Without an introduction would<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have ventured to begin it.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The proper thing, as you were late,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was certainly to go:</span><br />
+But, with the roads in such a state,<br />
+I got the Knight-Mayor&#8217;s leave to wait<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For half an hour or so.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;Who&#8217;s the Knight-Mayor?&#8221; I cried. Instead<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of answering my question,</span><br />
+&#8220;Well! If you don&#8217;t know <i>that</i>,&#8221; he said,<br />
+&#8220;Either you never go to bed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or you&#8217;ve a grand digestion!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;He goes about and sits on folk<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That eat too much at night:</span><br />
+His duties are to pinch, and poke,<br />
+And squeeze them till they nearly choke.&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(I said &#8220;It serves them right!&#8221;)</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And folk that sup on things like these&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He muttered, &#8220;eggs and bacon&mdash;</span><br />
+Lobster&mdash;and duck&mdash;and toasted cheese&mdash;<br />
+If they don&#8217;t get an awful squeeze,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I&#8217;m very much mistaken!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;He is immensely fat, and so<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Well suits the occupation:</span><br />
+In point of fact, if you must know,<br />
+We used to call him, years ago,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The Mayor and Corporation</i>!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i051.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE GOES ABOUT AND SITS ON FOLK&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;The day he was elected Mayor<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I <i>know</i> that every Sprite meant</span><br />
+To vote for <i>me</i>, but did not dare&mdash;<br />
+He was so frantic with despair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And furious with excitement.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i052.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;When it was over, for a whim,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He ran to tell the King;</span><br />
+And being the reverse of slim,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>A two-mile trot was not for him<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A very easy thing.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;So, to reward him for his run<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(As it was baking hot,</span><br />
+And he was over twenty stone),<br />
+The King proceeded, half in fun,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To knight him on the spot.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Twas a great liberty to take!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(I fired up like a rocket).</span><br />
+&#8220;He did it just for punning&#8217;s sake:<br />
+&#8216;The man,&#8217; says Johnson, &#8216;that would make<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A pun, would pick a pocket!&#8217;&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;A man,&#8221; said he, &#8220;is not a King.&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I argued for a while,</span><br />
+And did my best to prove the thing&mdash;<br />
+The Phantom merely listening<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With a contemptuous smile.</span><br />
+<br />
+At last, when, breath and patience spent,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I had recourse to smoking&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;Your <i>aim</i>,&#8221; he said, &#8220;is excellent:<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>But&mdash;when you call it <i>argument</i>&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of course you&#8217;re only joking?&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i054.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Stung by his cold and snaky eye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I roused myself at length</span><br />
+To say &#8220;At least I do defy<br />
+The veriest sceptic to deny<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That union is strength!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;That&#8217;s true enough,&#8221; said he, &#8220;yet stay&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I listened in all meekness&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;<i>Union</i> is strength, I&#8217;m bound to say;<br />
+In fact, the thing&#8217;s as clear as day;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But <i>onions</i>&mdash;are a weakness.&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO VI.</h3>
+<h4>Dyscomfyture.</h4>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>As one who strives a hill to climb,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who never climbed before:</span><br />
+Who finds it, in a little time,<br />
+Grow every moment less sublime,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And votes the thing a bore:</span><br />
+<br />
+Yet, having once begun to try,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dares not desert his quest,</span><br />
+But, climbing, ever keeps his eye<br />
+On one small hut against the sky,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wherein he hopes to rest:</span><br />
+<br />
+Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With many a puff and pant:</span><br />
+Who still, as rises the ascent,<br />
+In language grows more violent,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although in breath more scant:</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table">
+<tr><td valign="top" rowspan="2"><img src="images/i057left.jpg" alt="" /></td><td valign="top"><img src="images/i057right.jpg" alt="" /></td></tr>
+<tr><td>Who, climbing, gains at length the place<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That crowns the upward track;</span><br />
+And, entering with unsteady pace,<br />
+Receives a buffet in the face<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That lands him on his back:</span><br />
+<br />
+And feels himself, like one in sleep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Glide swiftly down again,</span><br />
+A helpless weight, from steep to steep,<br />
+Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He drops upon the plain&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+So I, that had resolved to bring<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Conviction to a ghost,</span><br />
+And found it quite a different thing<br />
+From any human arguing,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet dared not quit my post</span></td></tr></table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>But, keeping still the end in view<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To which I hoped to come,</span><br />
+I strove to prove the matter true<br />
+By putting everything I knew<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Into an axiom:</span><br />
+<br />
+Commencing every single phrase<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With &#8216;therefore&#8217; or &#8216;because,&#8217;</span><br />
+I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,<br />
+About the syllogistic maze,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unconscious where I was.</span><br />
+<br />
+Quoth he &#8220;That&#8217;s regular clap-trap:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don&#8217;t bluster any more.</span><br />
+Now <i>do</i> be cool and take a nap!<br />
+Such a ridiculous old chap<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was never seen before!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;You&#8217;re like a man I used to meet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who got one day so furious</span><br />
+In arguing, the simple heat<br />
+Scorched both his slippers off his feet!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said &#8220;<i>That&#8217;s very curious!</i>&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i059.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIPPERS OFF HIS FEET&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Well, it <i>is</i> curious, I agree,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And sounds perhaps like fibs:</span><br />
+But still it&#8217;s true as true can be&mdash;<br />
+As sure as your name&#8217;s Tibbs,&#8221; said he.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said &#8220;My name&#8217;s <i>not</i> Tibbs.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;<i>Not</i> Tibbs!&#8221; he cried&mdash;his tone became<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A shade or two less hearty&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;Why, no,&#8221; said I. &#8220;My proper name<br />
+Is Tibbets&mdash;&#8221; &#8220;Tibbets?&#8221; &#8220;Aye, the same.&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Why, then <span class="smcaplc">YOU&#8217;RE NOT THE PARTY</span>!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+With that he struck the board a blow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That shivered half the glasses.</span><br />
+&#8220;Why couldn&#8217;t you have told me so<br />
+Three quarters of an hour ago,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You prince of all the asses?</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;To walk four miles through mud and rain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To spend the night in smoking,</span><br />
+And then to find that it&#8217;s in vain&mdash;<br />
+And I&#8217;ve to do it all again&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It&#8217;s really <i>too</i> provoking!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i061.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk!&#8221; he cried, as I began<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To mutter some excuse.</span><br />
+&#8220;Who can have patience with a man<br />
+That&#8217;s got no more discretion than<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An idiotic goose?</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;To keep me waiting here, instead<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of telling me at once</span><br />
+That this was not the house!&#8221; he said.<br />
+&#8220;There, that&#8217;ll do&mdash;be off to bed!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don&#8217;t gape like that, you dunce!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It&#8217;s very fine to throw the blame<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On <i>me</i> in such a fashion!</span><br />
+Why didn&#8217;t you enquire my name<br />
+The very minute that you came?&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I answered in a passion.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Of course it worries you a bit<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To come so far on foot&mdash;</span><br />
+But how was <i>I</i> to blame for it?&#8221;<br />
+&#8220;Well, well!&#8221; said he. &#8220;I must admit<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That isn&#8217;t badly put.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And certainly you&#8217;ve given me<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The best of wine and victual&mdash;</span><br />
+Excuse my violence,&#8221; said he,<br />
+&#8220;But accidents like this, you see,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They put one out a little.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Twas <i>my</i> fault after all, I find&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shake hands, old Turnip-top!&#8221;</span><br />
+The name was hardly to my mind,<br />
+But, as no doubt he meant it kind,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I let the matter drop.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I am gone, perhaps</span><br />
+They&#8217;ll send you some inferior Sprite,<br />
+Who&#8217;ll keep you in a constant fright<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And spoil your soundest naps.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Tell him you&#8217;ll stand no sort of trick;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then, if he leers and chuckles,</span><br />
+You just be handy with a stick<br />
+(Mind that it&#8217;s pretty hard and thick)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And rap him on the knuckles!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Then carelessly remark &#8216;Old coon!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Perhaps you&#8217;re not aware</span><br />
+That, if you don&#8217;t behave, you&#8217;ll soon<br />
+Be chuckling to another tune&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And so you&#8217;d best take care!&#8217;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;That&#8217;s the right way to cure a Sprite<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of such-like goings-on&mdash;</span><br />
+But gracious me! It&#8217;s getting light!<br />
+Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A nod, and he was gone.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i064.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+<h3>CANTO VII.</h3>
+<h4>Sad Souvenaunce.</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i065.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;What&#8217;s this?&#8221; I pondered. &#8220;Have I slept?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or can I have been drinking?&#8221;</span><br />
+But soon a gentler feeling crept<br />
+Upon me, and I sat and wept<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An hour or so, like winking.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;No need for Bones to hurry so!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I sobbed. &#8220;In fact, I doubt</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>If it was worth his while to go&mdash;<br />
+And who is Tibbs, I&#8217;d like to know,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To make such work about?</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;If Tibbs is anything like me,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It&#8217;s <i>possible</i>,&#8221; I said,</span><br />
+&#8220;He won&#8217;t be over-pleased to be<br />
+Dropped in upon at half-past three,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">After he&#8217;s snug in bed.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And if Bones plagues him anyhow&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Squeaking and all the rest of it,</span><br />
+As he was doing here just now&mdash;<br />
+<i>I</i> prophesy there&#8217;ll be a row,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Tibbs will have the best of it!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then, as my tears could never bring<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The friendly Phantom back,</span><br />
+It seemed to me the proper thing<br />
+To mix another glass, and sing<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The following Coronach.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i067.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AND TIBBS WILL HAVE THE BEST OF IT&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8216;<i>And art thou gone, beloved Ghost?</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Best of Familiars!</i></span><br />
+<i>Nay then, farewell, my duckling roast,</i><br />
+<i>Farewell, farewell, my tea and toast,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>My meerschaum and cigars!</i></span><br />
+<br />
+&#8216;<i>The hues of life are dull and gray,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The sweets of life insipid,</i></span><br />
+<i>When thou, my charmer, art away&mdash;</i><br />
+<i>Old Brick, or rather, let me say,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Old Parallelepiped!</i>&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+Instead of singing Verse the Third,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I ceased&mdash;abruptly, rather:</span><br />
+But, after such a splendid word,<br />
+I felt that it would be absurd<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To try it any farther.</span><br />
+<br />
+So with a yawn I went my way<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To seek the welcome downy,</span><br />
+And slept, and dreamed till break of day<br />
+Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Leprechaun and Brownie!</span><br />
+<br />
+For years I&#8217;ve not been visited<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By any kind of Sprite;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>Yet still they echo in my head,<br />
+Those parting words, so kindly said,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Old Turnip-top, good-night!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i069.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ECHOES.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lady Clara Vere de Vere</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Was eight years old, she said:</span><br />
+Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">She took her little porringer:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of me she shall not win renown:</span><br />
+For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her down.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">&#8220;Sisters and brothers, little Maid?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">There stands the Inspector at thy door:</span><br />
+Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">&#8220;Kind words are more than coronets,&#8221;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">She said, and wondering looked at me:</span><br />
+&#8220;It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea.&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A SEA DIRGE.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i071.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>There are certain things&mdash;as, a spider, a ghost,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three&mdash;</span><br />
+That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Is a thing they call the Sea.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><br />
+Pour some salt water over the floor&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ugly I&#8217;m sure you&#8217;ll allow it to be:</span><br />
+Suppose it extended a mile or more,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>That&#8217;s</i> very like the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+Beat a dog till it howls outright&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cruel, but all very well for a spree:</span><br />
+Suppose that he did so day and night,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>That</i> would be like the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+I had a vision of nursery-maids;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tens of thousands passed by me&mdash;</span><br />
+All leading children with wooden spades,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And this was by the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+Who invented those spades of wood?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who was it cut them out of the tree?</span><br />
+None, I think, but an idiot could&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Or one that loved the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With &#8216;thoughts as boundless, and souls as free&#8217;:</span><br />
+But, suppose you are very unwell in the boat,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">How do you like the Sea?</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i073.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AND THIS WAS BY THE SEA&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>There is an insect that people avoid<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Whence is derived the verb &#8216;to flee&#8217;).</span><br />
+Where have you been by it most annoyed?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In lodgings by the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+If you like your coffee with sand for dregs,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A decided hint of salt in your tea,</span><br />
+And a fishy taste in the very eggs&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">By all means choose the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,</span><br />
+And a chronic state of wet in your feet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then&mdash;I recommend the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+For <i>I</i> have friends who dwell by the coast&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pleasant friends they are to me!</span><br />
+It is when I am with them I wonder most<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That any one likes the Sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+They take me a walk: though tired and stiff,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To climb the heights I madly agree;</span><br />
+And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">They kindly suggest the Sea.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span><br />
+I try the rocks, and I think it cool<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That they laugh with such an excess of glee,</span><br />
+As I heavily slip into every pool<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That skirts the cold cold Sea.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i075.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+<h2>Y<sup>e</sup> Carpette Knyghte.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>I have a horse&mdash;a ryghte goode horse&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ne doe I envye those</span><br />
+Who scoure y<sup>e</sup> playne yn headye course<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tyll soddayne on theyre nose</span><br />
+They lyghte wyth unexpected force&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yt ys&mdash;a horse of clothes.</span><br />
+<br />
+I have a saddel&mdash;&#8220;Say&#8217;st thou soe?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?&#8221;</span><br />
+I sayde not that&mdash;I answere &#8220;Noe&#8221;&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yt lacketh such, I woote:</span><br />
+Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Parte of y<sup>e</sup> fleecye brute.</span><br />
+<br />
+I have a bytte&mdash;a ryghte good bytte&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As shall bee seene yn tyme.</span><br />
+Y<sup>e</sup> jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yts use ys more sublyme.</span><br />
+Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yt ys&mdash;thys bytte of rhyme.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i077.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;I HAVE A HORSE&#8221;</small></p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HIAWATHA&#8217;S PHOTOGRAPHING.</h2>
+
+<p class="note">[In an age of imitation, I can claim no special merit for this slight
+attempt at doing what is known to be so easy. Any fairly practised writer,
+with the slightest ear for rhythm, could compose, for hours together, in
+the easy running metre of &#8216;The Song of Hiawatha.&#8217; Having, then, distinctly
+stated that I challenge no attention in the following little poem to its
+merely verbal jingle, I must beg the candid reader to confine his
+criticism to its treatment of the subject.]</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>From his shoulder Hiawatha<br />
+Took the camera of rosewood,<br />
+Made of sliding, folding rosewood;<br />
+Neatly put it all together.<br />
+In its case it lay compactly,<br />
+Folded into nearly nothing;<br />
+But he opened out the hinges,<br />
+Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,<br />
+Till it looked all squares and oblongs,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>Like a complicated figure<br />
+In the Second Book of Euclid.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i079.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;">This he perched upon a tripod&mdash;</span><br />
+Crouched beneath its dusky cover&mdash;<br />
+Stretched his hand, enforcing silence&mdash;<br />
+Said &#8220;Be motionless, I beg you!&#8221;<br />
+Mystic, awful was the process.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All the family in order</span><br />
+Sat before him for their pictures:<br />
+Each in turn, as he was taken,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>Volunteered his own suggestions,<br />
+His ingenious suggestions.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">First the Governor, the Father:</span><br />
+He suggested velvet curtains<br />
+Looped about a massy pillar;<br />
+And the corner of a table,<br />
+Of a rosewood dining-table.<br />
+He would hold a scroll of something,<br />
+Hold it firmly in his left-hand;<br />
+He would keep his right-hand buried<br />
+(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;<br />
+He would contemplate the distance<br />
+With a look of pensive meaning,<br />
+As of ducks that die in tempests.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grand, heroic was the notion:</span><br />
+Yet the picture failed entirely:<br />
+Failed, because he moved a little,<br />
+Moved, because he couldn&#8217;t help it.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Next, his better half took courage;</span><br />
+She would have her picture taken.<br />
+<i>She</i> came dressed beyond description,<br />
+Dressed in jewels and in satin<br />
+Far too gorgeous for an empress.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i081.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;FIRST THE GOVERNOR, THE FATHER&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Gracefully she sat down sideways,<br />
+With a simper scarcely human,<br />
+Holding in her hand a bouquet<br />
+Rather larger than a cabbage.<br />
+All the while that she was sitting,<br />
+Still the lady chattered, chattered,<br />
+Like a monkey in the forest.<br />
+&#8220;Am I sitting still?&#8221; she asked him.<br />
+&#8220;Is my face enough in profile?<br />
+Shall I hold the bouquet higher?<br />
+Will it come into the picture?&#8221;<br />
+And the picture failed completely.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab:</span><br />
+He suggested curves of beauty,<br />
+Curves pervading all his figure,<br />
+Which the eye might follow onward,<br />
+Till they centered in the breast-pin,<br />
+Centered in the golden breast-pin.<br />
+He had learnt it all from Ruskin<br />
+(Author of &#8216;The Stones of Venice,&#8217;<br />
+&#8216;Seven Lamps of Architecture,&#8217;<br />
+&#8216;Modern Painters,&#8217; and some others);<br />
+And perhaps he had not fully<br />
+Understood his author&#8217;s meaning;<br />
+But, whatever was the reason,<br />
+All was fruitless, as the picture<br />
+Ended in an utter failure.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i083.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;NEXT THE SON, THE STUNNING-CANTAB&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Next to him the eldest daughter:</span><br />
+She suggested very little,<br />
+Only asked if he would take her<br />
+With her look of &#8216;passive beauty.&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her idea of passive beauty</span><br />
+Was a squinting of the left-eye,<br />
+Was a drooping of the right-eye,<br />
+Was a smile that went up sideways<br />
+To the corner of the nostrils.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hiawatha, when she asked him,</span><br />
+Took no notice of the question,<br />
+Looked as if he hadn&#8217;t heard it;<br />
+But, when pointedly appealed to,<br />
+Smiled in his peculiar manner,<br />
+Coughed and said it &#8216;didn&#8217;t matter,&#8217;<br />
+Bit his lip and changed the subject.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor in this was he mistaken,</span><br />
+As the picture failed completely.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So in turn the other sisters.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i085.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;NEXT TO HIM THE ELDEST DAUGHTER&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Last, the youngest son was taken:</span><br />
+Very rough and thick his hair was,<br />
+Very round and red his face was,<br />
+Very dusty was his jacket,<br />
+Very fidgety his manner.<br />
+And his overbearing sisters<br />
+Called him names he disapproved of:<br />
+Called him Johnny, &#8216;Daddy&#8217;s Darling,&#8217;<br />
+Called him Jacky, &#8216;Scrubby School-boy.&#8217;<br />
+And, so awful was the picture,<br />
+In comparison the others<br />
+Seemed, to one&#8217;s bewildered fancy,<br />
+To have partially succeeded.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Finally my Hiawatha</span><br />
+Tumbled all the tribe together,<br />
+(&#8216;Grouped&#8217; is not the right expression),<br />
+And, as happy chance would have it,<br />
+Did at last obtain a picture<br />
+Where the faces all succeeded:<br />
+Each came out a perfect likeness.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i087.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;LAST, THE YOUNGEST SON WAS TAKEN&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then they joined and all abused it,</span><br />
+Unrestrainedly abused it,<br />
+As the worst and ugliest picture<br />
+They could possibly have dreamed of.<br />
+Giving one such strange expressions&mdash;<br />
+Sullen, stupid, pert expressions.<br />
+Really any one would take us<br />
+(Any one that did not know us)<br />
+For the most unpleasant people!&#8217;<br />
+(Hiawatha seemed to think so,<br />
+Seemed to think it not unlikely).<br />
+All together rang their voices,<br />
+Angry, loud, discordant voices,<br />
+As of dogs that howl in concert,<br />
+As of cats that wail in chorus.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But my Hiawatha&#8217;s patience,</span><br />
+His politeness and his patience,<br />
+Unaccountably had vanished,<br />
+And he left that happy party.<br />
+Neither did he leave them slowly,<br />
+With the calm deliberation,<br />
+The intense deliberation<br />
+Of a photographic artist:<br />
+But he left them in a hurry,<br />
+Left them in a mighty hurry,<br />
+Stating that he would not stand it,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>Stating in emphatic language<br />
+What he&#8217;d be before he&#8217;d stand it.<br />
+Hurriedly he packed his boxes:<br />
+Hurriedly the porter trundled<br />
+On a barrow all his boxes:<br />
+Hurriedly he took his ticket:<br />
+Hurriedly the train received him:<br />
+Thus departed Hiawatha.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i089.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+<h2>MELANCHOLETTA.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>With saddest music all day long<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She soothed her secret sorrow:</span><br />
+At night she sighed &#8220;I fear &#8217;twas wrong<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such cheerful words to borrow.</span><br />
+Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I&#8217;ll sing to thee to-morrow.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+I thanked her, but I could not say<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That I was glad to hear it:</span><br />
+I left the house at break of day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And did not venture near it</span><br />
+Till time, I hoped, had worn away<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her grief, for nought could cheer it!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i091.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AT NIGHT SHE SIGHED&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>My dismal sister! Couldst thou know<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The wretched home thou keepest!</span><br />
+Thy brother, drowned in daily woe,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is thankful when thou sleepest;</span><br />
+For if I laugh, however low,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When thou&#8217;rt awake, thou weepest!</span><br />
+<br />
+I took my sister t&#8217;other day<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Excuse the slang expression)</span><br />
+To Sadler&#8217;s Wells to see the play,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In hopes the new impression</span><br />
+Might in her thoughts, from grave to gay<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Effect some slight digression.</span><br />
+<br />
+I asked three gay young dogs from town<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To join us in our folly,</span><br />
+Whose mirth, I thought, might serve to drown<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My sister&#8217;s melancholy:</span><br />
+The lively Jones, the sportive Brown,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Robinson the jolly.</span><br />
+<br />
+The maid announced the meal in tones<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That I myself had taught her,</span><br />
+Meant to allay my sister&#8217;s moans<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like oil on troubled water:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And begged him to escort her.</span><br />
+<br />
+Vainly he strove, with ready wit,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To joke about the weather&mdash;</span><br />
+To ventilate the last &#8216;<i>on dit</i>&#8217;&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To quote the price of leather&mdash;</span><br />
+She groaned &#8220;Here I and Sorrow sit:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let us lament together!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+I urged &#8220;You&#8217;re wasting time, you know:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Delay will spoil the venison.&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;My heart is wasted with my woe!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There is no rest&mdash;in Venice, on</span><br />
+The Bridge of Sighs!&#8221; she quoted low<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From Byron and from Tennyson.</span><br />
+<br />
+I need not tell of soup and fish<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In solemn silence swallowed,</span><br />
+The sobs that ushered in each dish,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And its departure followed,</span><br />
+Nor yet my suicidal wish<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To <i>be</i> the cheese I hollowed.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br />
+Some desperate attempts were made<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To start a conversation;</span><br />
+&#8220;Madam,&#8221; the sportive Brown essayed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;Which kind of recreation,</span><br />
+Hunting or fishing, have you made<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your special occupation?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Her lips curved downwards instantly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if of india-rubber.</span><br />
+&#8220;Hounds <i>in full cry</i> I like,&#8221; said she:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Oh how I longed to snub her!)</span><br />
+&#8220;Of fish, a whale&#8217;s the one for me,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>It is so full of blubber</i>!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The night&#8217;s performance was &#8220;King John.&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;It&#8217;s dull,&#8221; she wept, &#8220;and so-so!&#8221;</span><br />
+A while I let her tears flow on,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She said they soothed her woe so!</span><br />
+At length the curtain rose upon<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8216;Bombastes Furioso.&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+In vain we roared; in vain we tried<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To rouse her into laughter:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>Her pensive glances wandered wide<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From orchestra to rafter&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;<i>Tier upon tier!</i>&#8221; she said, and sighed;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And silence followed after.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i095.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A VALENTINE.</h2>
+
+<p class="note">[Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him
+when he came, but didn&#8217;t seem to miss him if he stayed away.]</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>And cannot pleasures, while they last,<br />
+Be actual unless, when past,<br />
+They leave us shuddering and aghast,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">With anguish smarting?</span><br />
+And cannot friends be firm and fast,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And yet bear parting?</span><br />
+<br />
+And must I then, at Friendship&#8217;s call,<br />
+Calmly resign the little all<br />
+(Trifling, I grant, it is and small)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I have of gladness,</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>And lend my being to the thrall<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of gloom and sadness?</span><br />
+<br />
+And think you that I should be dumb,<br />
+And full <i>dolorum omnium</i>,<br />
+Excepting when <i>you</i> choose to come<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And share my dinner?</span><br />
+At other times be sour and glum<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And daily thinner?</span><br />
+<br />
+Must he then only live to weep,<br />
+Who&#8217;d prove his friendship true and deep?<br />
+By day a lonely shadow creep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">At night-time languish,</span><br />
+Oft raising in his broken sleep<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The moan of anguish?</span><br />
+<br />
+The lover, if for certain days<br />
+His fair one be denied his gaze,<br />
+Sinks not in grief and wild amaze,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">But, wiser wooer,</span><br />
+He spends the time in writing lays,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And posts them to her.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><br />
+And if the verse flow free and fast,<br />
+Till even the poet is aghast,<br />
+A touching Valentine at last<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The post shall carry,</span><br />
+When thirteen days are gone and past<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of February.</span><br />
+<br />
+Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet,<br />
+In desert waste or crowded street,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Perhaps before this week shall fleet,</span><br />
+Perhaps to-morrow,<br />
+I trust to find <i>your</i> heart the seat<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of wasting sorrow.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE THREE VOICES.</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>The First Voice.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i099.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>He trilled a carol fresh and free:<br />
+He laughed aloud for very glee:<br />
+There came a breeze from off the sea:<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span><br />
+It passed athwart the glooming flat&mdash;<br />
+It fanned his forehead as he sat&mdash;<br />
+It lightly bore away his hat,<br />
+<br />
+All to the feet of one who stood<br />
+Like maid enchanted in a wood,<br />
+Frowning as darkly as she could.<br />
+<br />
+With huge umbrella, lank and brown,<br />
+Unerringly she pinned it down,<br />
+Right through the centre of the crown.<br />
+<br />
+Then, with an aspect cold and grim,<br />
+Regardless of its battered rim,<br />
+She took it up and gave it him.<br />
+<br />
+A while like one in dreams he stood,<br />
+Then faltered forth his gratitude<br />
+In words just short of being rude:<br />
+<br />
+For it had lost its shape and shine,<br />
+And it had cost him four-and-nine,<br />
+And he was going out to dine.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i101.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;UNERRINGLY SHE PINNED IT DOWN.&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;To dine!&#8221; she sneered in acid tone.<br />
+&#8220;To bend thy being to a bone<br />
+Clothed in a radiance not its own!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+The tear-drop trickled to his chin:<br />
+There was a meaning in her grin<br />
+That made him feel on fire within.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Term it not &#8216;radiance,&#8217;&#8221; said he:<br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Tis solid nutriment to me.<br />
+Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+And she &#8220;Yea so? Yet wherefore cease?<br />
+Let thy scant knowledge find increase.<br />
+Say &#8216;Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.&#8217;&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+He moaned: he knew not what to say.<br />
+The thought &#8220;That I could get away!&#8221;<br />
+Strove with the thought &#8220;But I must stay.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;To dine!&#8221; she shrieked in dragon-wrath.<br />
+&#8220;To swallow wines all foam and froth!<br />
+To simper at a table-cloth!<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;Say, can thy noble spirit stoop<br />
+To join the gormandising troop<br />
+Who find a solace in the soup?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Canst thou desire or pie or puff?<br />
+Thy well-bred manners were enough,<br />
+Without such gross material stuff.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Yet well-bred men,&#8221; he faintly said,<br />
+&#8220;Are not unwilling to be fed:<br />
+Nor are they well without the bread.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Her visage scorched him ere she spoke:<br />
+&#8220;There are,&#8221; she said, &#8220;a kind of folk<br />
+Who have no horror of a joke.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Such wretches live: they take their share<br />
+Of common earth and common air:<br />
+We come across them here and there:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;We grant them&mdash;there is no escape&mdash;<br />
+A sort of semi-human shape<br />
+Suggestive of the man-like Ape.&#8221;<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;In all such theories,&#8221; said he,<br />
+&#8220;One fixed exception there must be.<br />
+That is, the Present Company.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Baffled, she gave a wolfish bark:<br />
+He, aiming blindly in the dark,<br />
+With random shaft had pierced the mark.<br />
+<br />
+She felt that her defeat was plain,<br />
+Yet madly strove with might and main<br />
+To get the upper hand again.<br />
+<br />
+Fixing her eyes upon the beach,<br />
+As though unconscious of his speech,<br />
+She said &#8220;Each gives to more than each.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+He could not answer yea or nay:<br />
+He faltered &#8220;Gifts may pass away.&#8221;<br />
+Yet knew not what he meant to say.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;If that be so,&#8221; she straight replied,<br />
+&#8220;Each heart with each doth coincide.<br />
+What boots it? For the world is wide.&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i105.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE FALTERED &#8216;GIFTS MAY PASS AWAY.&#8217;&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;The world is but a Thought,&#8221; said he:<br />
+&#8220;The vast unfathomable sea<br />
+Is but a Notion&mdash;unto me.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+And darkly fell her answer dread<br />
+Upon his unresisting head,<br />
+Like half a hundredweight of lead.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The Good and Great must ever shun<br />
+That reckless and abandoned one<br />
+Who stoops to perpetrate a pun.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The man that smokes&mdash;that reads the <i>Times</i>&mdash;<br />
+That goes to Christmas Pantomimes&mdash;<br />
+Is capable of <i>any</i> crimes!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+He felt it was his turn to speak,<br />
+And, with a shamed and crimson cheek,<br />
+Moaned &#8220;This is harder than Bezique!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+But when she asked him &#8220;Wherefore so?&#8221;<br />
+He felt his very whiskers glow,<br />
+And frankly owned &#8220;I do not know.&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i107.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THIS IS HARDER THAN BEZIQUE!&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>While, like broad waves of golden grain,<br />
+Or sunlit hues on cloistered pane,<br />
+His colour came and went again.<br />
+<br />
+Pitying his obvious distress,<br />
+Yet with a tinge of bitterness,<br />
+She said &#8220;The More exceeds the Less.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;A truth of such undoubted weight,&#8221;<br />
+He urged, &#8220;and so extreme in date,<br />
+It were superfluous to state.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Roused into sudden passion, she<br />
+In tone of cold malignity:<br />
+&#8220;To others, yea: but not to thee.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+But when she saw him quail and quake,<br />
+And when he urged &#8220;For pity&#8217;s sake!&#8221;<br />
+Once more in gentle tone she spake.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Thought in the mind doth still abide:<br />
+That is by Intellect supplied,<br />
+And within that Idea doth hide:<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;And he, that yearns the truth to know,<br />
+Still further inwardly may go,<br />
+And find Idea from Notion flow:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And thus the chain, that sages sought,<br />
+Is to a glorious circle wrought,<br />
+For Notion hath its source in Thought.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+So passed they on with even pace:<br />
+Yet gradually one might trace<br />
+A shadow growing on his face.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i109.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+<h3>The Second Voice.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i110.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They walked beside the wave-worn beach;<br />
+Her tongue was very apt to teach,<br />
+And now and then he did beseech<br />
+<br />
+She would abate her dulcet tone,<br />
+Because the talk was all her own,<br />
+And he was dull as any drone.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><br />
+She urged &#8220;No cheese is made of chalk&#8221;:<br />
+And ceaseless flowed her dreary talk,<br />
+Tuned to the footfall of a walk.<br />
+<br />
+Her voice was very full and rich,<br />
+And, when at length she asked him &#8220;Which?&#8221;<br />
+It mounted to its highest pitch.<br />
+<br />
+He a bewildered answer gave,<br />
+Drowned in the sullen moaning wave,<br />
+Lost in the echoes of the cave.<br />
+<br />
+He answered her he knew not what:<br />
+Like shaft from bow at random shot,<br />
+He spoke, but she regarded not.<br />
+<br />
+She waited not for his reply,<br />
+But with a downward leaden eye<br />
+Went on as if he were not by:<br />
+<br />
+Sound argument and grave defence,<br />
+Strange questions raised on &#8220;Why?&#8221; and &#8220;Whence?&#8221;<br />
+And wildly tangled evidence.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><br />
+When he, with racked and whirling brain,<br />
+Feebly implored her to explain,<br />
+She simply said it all again.<br />
+<br />
+Wrenched with an agony intense,<br />
+He spake, neglecting Sound and Sense,<br />
+And careless of all consequence:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Mind&mdash;I believe&mdash;is Essence&mdash;Ent&mdash;<br />
+Abstract&mdash;that is&mdash;an Accident&mdash;<br />
+Which we&mdash;that is to say&mdash;I meant&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+When, with quick breath and cheeks all flushed,<br />
+At length his speech was somewhat hushed,<br />
+She looked at him, and he was crushed.<br />
+<br />
+It needed not her calm reply:<br />
+She fixed him with a stony eye,<br />
+And he could neither fight nor fly,<br />
+<br />
+While she dissected, word by word,<br />
+His speech, half guessed at and half heard,<br />
+As might a cat a little bird.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i113.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE SPAKE, NEGLECTING SOUND AND SENSE.&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Then, having wholly overthrown<br />
+His views, and stripped them to the bone,<br />
+Proceeded to unfold her own.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss<br />
+Of other thoughts no thought but this,<br />
+Harmonious dews of sober bliss?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;What boots it? Shall his fevered eye<br />
+Through towering nothingness descry<br />
+The grisly phantom hurry by?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And hear dumb shrieks that fill the air;<br />
+See mouths that gape, and eyes that stare<br />
+And redden in the dusky glare?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The meadows breathing amber light,<br />
+The darkness toppling from the height,<br />
+The feathery train of granite Night?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Shall he, grown gray among his peers,<br />
+Through the thick curtain of his tears<br />
+Catch glimpses of his earlier years,</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i115.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;SHALL MAN BE MAN?&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;And hear the sounds he knew of yore,<br />
+Old shufflings on the sanded floor,<br />
+Old knuckles tapping at the door?<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Yet still before him as he flies<br />
+One pallid form shall ever rise,<br />
+And, bodying forth in glassy eyes<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The vision of a vanished good,<br />
+Low peering through the tangled wood,<br />
+Shall freeze the current of his blood.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Still from each fact, with skill uncouth<br />
+And savage rapture, like a tooth<br />
+She wrenched some slow reluctant truth.<br />
+<br />
+Till, like a silent water-mill,<br />
+When summer suns have dried the rill,<br />
+She reached a full stop, and was still.<br />
+<br />
+Dead calm succeeded to the fuss,<br />
+As when the loaded omnibus<br />
+Has reached the railway terminus:<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><br />
+When, for the tumult of the street,<br />
+Is heard the engine&#8217;s stifled beat,<br />
+The velvet tread of porters&#8217; feet.<br />
+<br />
+With glance that ever sought the ground,<br />
+She moved her lips without a sound,<br />
+And every now and then she frowned.<br />
+<br />
+He gazed upon the sleeping sea,<br />
+And joyed in its tranquillity,<br />
+And in that silence dead, but she<br />
+<br />
+To muse a little space did seem,<br />
+Then, like the echo of a dream,<br />
+Harped back upon her threadbare theme.<br />
+<br />
+Still an attentive ear he lent<br />
+But could not fathom what she meant:<br />
+She was not deep, nor eloquent.<br />
+<br />
+He marked the ripple on the sand:<br />
+The even swaying of her hand<br />
+Was all that he could understand.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span><br />
+He saw in dreams a drawing-room,<br />
+Where thirteen wretches sat in gloom,<br />
+Waiting&mdash;he thought he knew for whom:<br />
+<br />
+He saw them drooping here and there,<br />
+Each feebly huddled on a chair,<br />
+In attitudes of blank despair:<br />
+<br />
+Oysters were not more mute than they,<br />
+For all their brains were pumped away,<br />
+And they had nothing more to say&mdash;<br />
+<br />
+Save one, who groaned &#8220;Three hours are gone!&#8221;<br />
+Who shrieked &#8220;We&#8217;ll wait no longer, John!<br />
+Tell them to set the dinner on!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+The vision passed: the ghosts were fled:<br />
+He saw once more that woman dread:<br />
+He heard once more the words she said.<br />
+<br />
+He left her, and he turned aside:<br />
+He sat and watched the coming tide<br />
+Across the shores so newly dried.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i119.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE SAT AND WATCHED THE COMING TIDE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>He wondered at the waters clear,<br />
+The breeze that whispered in his ear,<br />
+The billows heaving far and near,<br />
+<br />
+And why he had so long preferred<br />
+To hang upon her every word:<br />
+&#8220;In truth,&#8221; he said, &#8220;it was absurd.&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i120.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+<h3>The Third Voice.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i121.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Not long this transport held its place:<br />
+Within a little moment&#8217;s space<br />
+Quick tears were raining down his face.<br />
+<br />
+His heart stood still, aghast with fear;<br />
+A wordless voice, nor far nor near,<br />
+He seemed to hear and not to hear.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;Tears kindle not the doubtful spark.<br />
+If so, why not? Of this remark<br />
+The bearings are profoundly dark.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Her speech,&#8221; he said, &#8220;hath caused this pain.<br />
+Easier I count it to explain<br />
+The jargon of the howling main,<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Or, stretched beside some babbling brook,<br />
+To con, with inexpressive look,<br />
+An unintelligible book.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Low spake the voice within his head,<br />
+In words imagined more than said,<br />
+Soundless as ghost&#8217;s intended tread:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;If thou art duller than before,<br />
+Why quittedst thou the voice of lore?<br />
+Why not endure, expecting more?&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Rather than that,&#8221; he groaned aghast,<br />
+&#8220;I&#8217;d writhe in depths of cavern vast,<br />
+Some loathly vampire&#8217;s rich repast.&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i123.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE GROANED AGHAST&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;&#8217;Twere hard,&#8221; it answered, &#8220;themes immense<br />
+To coop within the narrow fence<br />
+That rings <i>thy</i> scant intelligence.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Not so,&#8221; he urged, &#8220;nor once alone:<br />
+But there was something in her tone<br />
+That chilled me to the very bone.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Her style was anything but clear,<br />
+And most unpleasantly severe;<br />
+Her epithets were very queer.<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And yet, so grand were her replies,<br />
+I could not choose but deem her wise;<br />
+I did not dare to criticise;<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Nor did I leave her, till she went<br />
+So deep in tangled argument<br />
+That all my powers of thought were spent.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+A little whisper inly slid,<br />
+&#8220;Yet truth is truth: you know you did.&#8221;<br />
+A little wink beneath the lid.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><br />
+And, sickened with excess of dread,<br />
+Prone to the dust he bent his head,<br />
+And lay like one three-quarters dead.<br />
+<br />
+The whisper left him&mdash;like a breeze<br />
+Lost in the depths of leafy trees&mdash;<br />
+Left him by no means at his ease.<br />
+<br />
+Once more he weltered in despair,<br />
+With hands, through denser-matted hair,<br />
+More tightly clenched than then they were.<br />
+<br />
+When, bathed in Dawn of living red,<br />
+Majestic frowned the mountain head,<br />
+&#8220;Tell me my fault,&#8221; was all he said.<br />
+<br />
+When, at high Noon, the blazing sky<br />
+Scorched in his head each haggard eye,<br />
+Then keenest rose his weary cry.<br />
+<br />
+And when at Eve the unpitying sun<br />
+Smiled grimly on the solemn fun,<br />
+&#8220;Alack,&#8221; he sighed, &#8220;what <i>have</i> I done?&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i126.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;TORTURED, UNAIDED, AND ALONE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>But saddest, darkest was the sight,<br />
+When the cold grasp of leaden Night<br />
+Dashed him to earth, and held him tight.<br />
+<br />
+Tortured, unaided, and alone,<br />
+Thunders were silence to his groan,<br />
+Bagpipes sweet music to its tone:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;What? Ever thus, in dismal round,<br />
+Shall Pain and Mystery profound<br />
+Pursue me like a sleepless hound,<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;With crimson-dashed and eager jaws,<br />
+Me, still in ignorance of the cause,<br />
+Unknowing what I broke of laws?&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+The whisper to his ear did seem<br />
+Like echoed flow of silent stream,<br />
+Or shadow of forgotten dream,<br />
+<br />
+The whisper trembling in the wind:<br />
+&#8220;Her fate with thine was intertwined,&#8221;<br />
+So spake it in his inner mind:</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i128.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;A SCARED DULLARD, GIBBERING LOW&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Each orbed on each a baleful star:<br />
+Each proved the other&#8217;s blight and bar:<br />
+Each unto each were best, most far:<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Yea, each to each was worse than foe:<br />
+Thou, a scared dullard, gibbering low,<br />
+<span class="smcap">And she, an avalanche of woe</span>!&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+<h2>T&Egrave;MA CON VARIAZI&Oacute;NI.</h2>
+
+<div class="note">
+<p>[Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process of
+Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister-art Music? The
+Diluter gives us first a few notes of some well-known Air, then a dozen
+bars of his own, then a few more notes of the Air, and so on alternately:
+thus saving the listener, if not from all risk of recognising the melody
+at all, at least from the too-exciting transports which it might produce
+in a more concentrated form. The process is termed &#8220;setting&#8221; by Composers,
+and any one, that has ever experienced the emotion of being unexpectedly
+set down in a heap of mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this
+happy phrase.</p>
+
+<p>For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly over a morsel of
+supreme Venison&mdash;whose every fibre seems to murmur &#8220;Excelsior!&#8221;&mdash;yet
+swallows, ere returning to the toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of
+oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the perfect Connoisseur in
+Claret permits himself but one delicate sip, and then tosses off a pint or
+more of boarding-school beer: so also&mdash;&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>I never loved a dear Gazelle&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Nor anything that cost me much:</i></span><br />
+<i>High prices profit those who sell,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>But why should I be fond of such?</i></span><br />
+<br />
+To glad me with his soft black eye<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>My son comes trotting home from school;</i></span><br />
+<i>He&#8217;s had a fight, but can&#8217;t tell why&mdash;</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He always was a little fool!</i></span><br />
+<br />
+But, when he came to know me well,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He kicked me out, her testy Sire:</i></span><br />
+<i>And when I stained my hair, that Belle,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Might note the change, and thus admire</i></span><br />
+<br />
+And love me, it was sure to dye<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A muddy green or staring blue:</i></span><br />
+<i>Whilst one might trace, with half an eye,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The still triumphant carrot through</i>.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A GAME OF FIVES.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i132.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:<br />
+Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.<br />
+<br />
+Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:<br />
+Sitting down to lessons&mdash;no more time for tricks.<br />
+<br />
+Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:<br />
+Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!<br />
+<br />
+Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:<br />
+Each young man that calls, I say &#8220;Now tell me which you <i>mean</i>!&#8221;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i133.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;NOW TELL ME WHICH YOU <i>MEAN</i>!&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:<br />
+But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?<br />
+<br />
+Five showy girls&mdash;but Thirty is an age<br />
+When girls may be <i>engaging</i>, but they somehow don&#8217;t <i>engage</i>.<br />
+<br />
+Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:<br />
+So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!<br />
+<br /><span class="spacer">&nbsp;</span><span class="spacer">*</span><span class="spacer">*</span><span class="spacer">*</span><span class="spacer">*</span><span class="spacer">*</span><span class="spacer">*</span><br /><br />
+Five <i>pass&eacute;</i> girls&mdash;Their age? Well, never mind!<br />
+We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:<br />
+But the quondam &#8220;careless bachelor&#8221; begins to think he knows<br />
+The answer to that ancient problem &#8220;how the money goes&#8221;!</td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+<h2>POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i135.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;How shall I be a poet?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How shall I write in rhyme?</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>You told me once &#8216;the very wish<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Partook of the sublime.&#8217;</span><br />
+Then tell me how! Don&#8217;t put me off<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With your &#8216;another time&#8217;!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The old man smiled to see him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear his sudden sally;</span><br />
+He liked the lad to speak his mind<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Enthusiastically;</span><br />
+And thought &#8220;There&#8217;s no hum-drum in him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor any shilly-shally.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And would you be a poet<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Before you&#8217;ve been to school?</span><br />
+Ah, well! I hardly thought you<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So absolute a fool.</span><br />
+First learn to be spasmodic&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A very simple rule.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For first you write a sentence,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And then you chop it small;</span><br />
+Then mix the bits, and sort them out<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just as they chance to fall:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>The order of the phrases makes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No difference at all.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Then, if you&#8217;d be impressive,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Remember what I say,</span><br />
+That abstract qualities begin<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With capitals alway:</span><br />
+The True, the Good, the Beautiful&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those are the things that pay!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Next, when you are describing<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shape, or sound, or tint;</span><br />
+Don&#8217;t state the matter plainly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But put it in a hint;</span><br />
+And learn to look at all things<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a sort of mental squint.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For instance, if I wished, Sir,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of mutton-pies to tell,</span><br />
+Should I say &#8216;dreams of fleecy flocks<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pent in a wheaten cell&#8217;?&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;Why, yes,&#8221; the old man said: &#8220;that phrase<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would answer very well.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;Then fourthly, there are epithets<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That suit with any word&mdash;</span><br />
+As well as Harvey&#8217;s Reading Sauce<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With fish, or flesh, or bird&mdash;</span><br />
+Of these, &#8216;wild,&#8217; &#8216;lonely,&#8217; &#8216;weary,&#8217; &#8216;strange,&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are much to be preferred.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And will it do, O will it do<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To take them in a lump&mdash;</span><br />
+As &#8216;the wild man went his weary way<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To a strange and lonely pump&#8217;?&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;Nay, nay! You must not hastily<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To such conclusions jump.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Such epithets, like pepper,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Give zest to what you write;</span><br />
+And, if you strew them sparely,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They whet the appetite:</span><br />
+But if you lay them on too thick,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You spoil the matter quite!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i139.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THE WILD MAN WENT HIS WEARY WAY&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Last, as to the arrangement:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your reader, you should show him,</span><br />
+Must take what information he<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Can get, and look for no im-</span><br />
+mature disclosure of the drift<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And purpose of your poem.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Therefore, to test his patience&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How much he can endure&mdash;</span><br />
+Mention no places, names, or dates,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And evermore be sure</span><br />
+Throughout the poem to be found<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Consistently obscure.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;First fix upon the limit<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To which it shall extend:</span><br />
+Then fill it up with &#8216;Padding&#8217;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Beg some of any friend):</span><br />
+Your great <span class="smcap">Sensation-stanza</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You place towards the end.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And what is a Sensation,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grandfather, tell me, pray?</span><br />
+I think I never heard the word<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So used before to-day:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>Be kind enough to mention one<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8216;<i>Exempli grati&acirc;</i>.&#8217;&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+And the old man, looking sadly<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Across the garden-lawn,</span><br />
+Where here and there a dew-drop<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet glittered in the dawn,</span><br />
+Said &#8220;Go to the Adelphi,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And see the &#8216;Colleen Bawn.&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The word is due to Boucicault&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The theory is his,</span><br />
+Where Life becomes a Spasm,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And History a Whiz:</span><br />
+If that is not Sensation,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I don&#8217;t know what it is.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Now try your hand, ere Fancy<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have lost its present glow&mdash;&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;And then,&#8221; his grandson added,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;We&#8217;ll publish it, you know:</span><br />
+Green cloth&mdash;gold-lettered at the back&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In duodecimo!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><br />
+Then proudly smiled that old man<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To see the eager lad</span><br />
+Rush madly for his pen and ink<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And for his blotting-pad&mdash;</span><br />
+But, when he thought of <i>publishing</i>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His face grew stern and sad.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i142.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK,</h2>
+<h3>An Agony in Eight Fits.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="note">
+<p class="center">PREFACE.</p>
+
+<p>If&mdash;and the thing is wildly possible&mdash;the charge of writing nonsense were
+ever brought against the author of this brief but instructive poem, it
+would be based, I feel convinced, on the line (in p. 144)</p>
+
+<p class="poem">&#8220;Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I might) appeal
+indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such a
+deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral purpose of this
+poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so cautiously inculcated in
+it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History&mdash;I will take the more
+prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>The Bellman, who was almost morbidly sensitive about appearances, used to
+have the bowsprit unshipped once or twice a week to be revarnished; and it
+more than once happened, when the time came for replacing it, that no one
+on board could remember which end of the ship it belonged to. They knew it
+was not of the slightest use to appeal to the Bellman about it&mdash;he would
+only refer to his Naval Code, and read out in pathetic tones Admiralty
+Instructions which none of them had ever been able to understand&mdash;so it
+generally ended in its being fastened on, anyhow, across the rudder. The
+helmsman<small><a name="f1.1" id="f1.1" href="#f1">[1]</a></small> used to stand by with tears in his eyes: <i>he</i> knew it was all
+wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of the Code, &#8220;<i>No one shall speak to the Man at
+the Helm</i>,&#8221; had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words &#8220;<i>and
+the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one</i>.&#8221; So remonstrance was
+impossible, and no steering could be done till the next varnishing day.
+During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed backwards.</p>
+
+<p>As this poem is to some extent connected with the lay of the Jabberwock,
+let me take this opportunity of answering a question that has often been
+asked me, how to pronounce &#8220;slithy toves.&#8221; The &#8220;i&#8221; in &#8220;slithy&#8221; is long, as
+in &#8220;writhe&#8221;; and &#8220;toves&#8221; is pronounced so as to rhyme with &#8220;groves.&#8221;
+Again, the first &#8220;o&#8221; in &#8220;borogoves&#8221; is pronounced like the &#8220;o&#8221; in
+&#8220;borrow.&#8221; I have heard people try to give it the sound of the &#8220;o&#8221; in
+&#8220;worry.&#8221; Such is Human Perversity.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard words in that
+poem. Humpty-Dumpty&#8217;s theory, of two meanings packed into one word like a
+portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, take the two words &#8220;fuming&#8221; and &#8220;furious.&#8221; Make up your mind
+that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which you will say
+first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts incline ever so
+little towards &#8220;fuming,&#8221; you will say &#8220;fuming-furious&#8221;; if they turn, by
+even a hair&#8217;s breadth towards &#8220;furious,&#8221; you will say &#8220;furious-fuming&#8221;;
+but if you have that rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind, you will
+say &#8220;frumious.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">&#8220;Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Justice Shallow had felt certain that it was either William or Richard,
+but had not been able to settle which, so that he could not possibly say
+either name before the other, can it be doubted that, rather than die, he
+would have gasped out &#8220;Rilchiam!&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the First.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE LANDING.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Just the place for a Snark!&#8221; the Bellman cried,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As he landed his crew with care;</span><br />
+Supporting each man on the top of the tide<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By a finger entwined in his hair.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That alone should encourage the crew.</span><br />
+Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What I tell you three times is true.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The crew was complete: it included a Boots&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A maker of Bonnets and Hoods&mdash;</span><br />
+A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a Broker, to value their goods.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i147.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;SUPPORTING EACH MAN ON THE TOP OF THE TIDE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Might perhaps have won more than his share&mdash;</span><br />
+But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had the whole of their cash in his care.</span><br />
+<br />
+There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or would sit making lace in the bow:</span><br />
+And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though none of the sailors knew how.</span><br />
+<br />
+There was one who was famed for the number of things<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He forgot when he entered the ship:</span><br />
+His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the clothes he had bought for the trip.</span><br />
+<br />
+He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With his name painted clearly on each:</span><br />
+But since he omitted to mention the fact,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They were all left behind on the beach.</span><br />
+<br />
+The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He had seven coats on when he came,</span><br />
+With three pair of boots&mdash;but the worst of it was<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He had wholly forgotten his name.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i149.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE HAD WHOLLY FORGOTTEN HIS NAME&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>He would answer to &#8220;Hi!&#8221; or to any loud cry,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as &#8220;Fry me!&#8221; or &#8220;Fritter my wig!&#8221;</span><br />
+To &#8220;What-you-may-call-um!&#8221; or &#8220;What-was-his-name!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But especially &#8220;Thing-um-a jig!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He had different names from these:</span><br />
+His intimate friends called him &#8220;Candle-ends,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And his enemies &#8220;Toasted-cheese.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;His form is ungainly&mdash;his intellect small&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(So the Bellman would often remark)&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+He would joke with hy&aelig;nas, returning their stare<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With an impudent wag of the head:</span><br />
+And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;Just to keep up its spirits,&#8221; he said.</span><br />
+<br />
+He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad&mdash;</span><br />
+He could only bake Bride-cake&mdash;for which, I may state,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No materials were to be had.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><br />
+The last of the crew needs especial remark,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though he looked an incredible dunce:</span><br />
+He had just one idea&mdash;but, that one being &#8220;Snark,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The good Bellman engaged him at once.</span><br />
+<br />
+He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the ship had been sailing a week,</span><br />
+He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And was almost too frightened to speak:</span><br />
+<br />
+But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There was only one Beaver on board;</span><br />
+And that was a tame one he had of his own,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose death would be deeply deplored.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Protested, with tears in its eyes,</span><br />
+That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Could atone for that dismal surprise!</span><br />
+<br />
+It strongly advised that the Butcher should be<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Conveyed in a separate ship:</span><br />
+But the Bellman declared that would never agree<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the plans he had made for the trip:</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i152.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THE BEAVER KEPT LOOKING THE OPPOSITE WAY&#8221;</small></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Navigation was always a difficult art,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though with only one ship and one bell:</span><br />
+And he feared he must really decline, for his part,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Undertaking another as well.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Beaver&#8217;s best course was, no doubt, to procure<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A second-hand dagger-proof coat&mdash;</span><br />
+So the Baker advised it&mdash;and next, to insure<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its life in some Office of note:</span><br />
+<br />
+This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(On moderate terms), or for sale,</span><br />
+Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And one Against Damage From Hail.</span><br />
+<br />
+Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whenever the Butcher was by,</span><br />
+The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And appeared unaccountably shy.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>Fit the Second.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE BELLMAN&#8217;S SPEECH.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!</span><br />
+Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The moment one looked in his face!</span><br />
+<br />
+He had bought a large map representing the sea,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Without the least vestige of land:</span><br />
+And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A map they could all understand.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;What&#8217;s the good of Mercator&#8217;s North Poles and Equators,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?&#8221;</span><br />
+So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;They are merely conventional signs!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i155.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>OCEAN-CHART.</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But we&#8217;ve got our brave Captain to thank&#8221;</span><br />
+(So the crew would protest) &#8220;that he&#8217;s bought <i>us</i> the best&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A perfect and absolute blank!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+This was charming, no doubt: but they shortly found out<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the Captain they trusted so well</span><br />
+Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And that was to tingle his bell.</span><br />
+<br />
+He was thoughtful and grave&mdash;but the orders he gave<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were enough to bewilder a crew.</span><br />
+When he cried &#8220;Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What on earth was the helmsman to do?</span><br />
+<br />
+Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A thing, as the Bellman remarked,</span><br />
+That frequently happens in tropical climes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When a vessel is, so to speak, &#8220;snarked.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>Said he <i>had</i> hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the ship would <i>not</i> travel due West!</span><br />
+<br />
+But the danger was past&mdash;they had landed at last,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:</span><br />
+Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which consisted of chasms and crags.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And repeated in musical tone</span><br />
+Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But the crew would do nothing but groan.</span><br />
+<br />
+He served out some grog with a liberal hand,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And bade them sit down on the beach:</span><br />
+And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As he stood and delivered his speech.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(They were all of them fond of quotations:</span><br />
+So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While he served out additional rations).</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Four weeks to the month you may mark),</span><br />
+But never as yet (&#8217;tis your Captain who speaks)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Seven days to the week I allow),</span><br />
+But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have never beheld till now!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The five unmistakable marks</span><br />
+By which you may know, wheresoever you go,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The warranted genuine Snarks.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:</span><br />
+Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a flavour of Will-o-the wisp.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Its habit of getting up late you&#8217;ll agree<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That it carries too far, when I say</span><br />
+That it frequently breakfasts at five o&#8217;clock tea,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And dines on the following day.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;The third is its slowness in taking a jest.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should you happen to venture on one,</span><br />
+It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it always looks grave at a pun.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which it constantly carries about,</span><br />
+And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A sentiment open to doubt.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The fifth is ambition. It next will be right<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To describe each particular batch:</span><br />
+Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From those that have whiskers, and scratch.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet I feel it my duty to say</span><br />
+Some are Boojums&mdash;&#8221; The Bellman broke off in alarm,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the Baker had fainted away.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Third.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE BAKER&#8217;S TALE.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They roused him with muffins&mdash;they roused him with ice&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They roused him with mustard and cress&mdash;</span><br />
+They roused him with jam and judicious advice&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They set him conundrums to guess.</span><br />
+<br />
+When at length he sat up and was able to speak,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His sad story he offered to tell;</span><br />
+And the Bellman cried &#8220;Silence! Not even a shriek!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And excitedly tingled his bell.</span><br />
+<br />
+There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scarcely even a howl or a groan,</span><br />
+As the man they called &#8220;Ho!&#8221; told his story of woe<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In an antediluvian tone.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;My father and mother were honest, though poor&mdash;&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;Skip all that!&#8221; cried the Bellman in haste.</span><br />
+&#8220;If it once becomes dark, there&#8217;s no chance of a Snark&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have hardly a minute to waste!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I skip forty years,&#8221; said the Baker, in tears,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;And proceed without further remark</span><br />
+To the day when you took me aboard of your ship<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To help you in hunting the Snark.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Remarked, when I bade him farewell&mdash;&#8221;</span><br />
+&#8220;Oh, skip your dear uncle!&#8221; the Bellman exclaimed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As he angrily tingled his bell.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;He remarked to me then,&#8221; said that mildest of men,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;&#8216;If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:</span><br />
+Fetch it home by all means&mdash;you may serve it with greens<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it&#8217;s handy for striking a light.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;&#8216;You may seek it with thimbles&mdash;and seek it with care;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You may hunt it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+You may threaten its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You may charm it with smiles and soap&mdash;&#8217;&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><br />
+(&#8220;That&#8217;s exactly the method,&#8221; the Bellman bold<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In a hasty parenthesis cried,</span><br />
+&#8220;That&#8217;s exactly the way I have always been told<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the capture of Snarks should be tried!&#8221;)</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;&#8216;But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If your Snark be a Boojum! For then</span><br />
+You will softly and suddenly vanish away,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And never be met with again!&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When I think of my uncle&#8217;s last words:</span><br />
+And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brimming over with quivering curds!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It is this, it is this&mdash;&#8221; &#8220;We have had that before!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Bellman indignantly said.</span><br />
+And the Baker replied &#8220;Let me say it once more.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is this, it is this that I dread!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I engage with the Snark&mdash;every night after dark&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In a dreamy delirious fight:</span><br />
+I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And I use it for striking a light:</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i163.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;BUT OH, BEAMISH NEPHEW, BEWARE OF THE DAY&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In a moment (of this I am sure),</span><br />
+I shall softly and suddenly vanish away&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the notion I cannot endure!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Fourth.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE HUNTING.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>
+The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;If only you&#8217;d spoken before!</span><br />
+It&#8217;s excessively awkward to mention it now,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you never were met with again&mdash;</span><br />
+But surely, my man, when the voyage began,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You might have suggested it then?</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It&#8217;s excessively awkward to mention it now&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As I think I&#8217;ve already remarked.&#8221;</span><br />
+And the man they called &#8220;Hi!&#8221; replied, with a sigh,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;I informed you the day we embarked.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;You may charge me with murder&mdash;or want of sense&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(We are all of us weak at times):</span><br />
+But the slightest approach to a false pretence<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was never among my crimes!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;I said it in Hebrew&mdash;I said it in Dutch&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I said it in German and Greek:</span><br />
+But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That English is what you speak!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Tis a pitiful tale,&#8221; said the Bellman, whose face<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had grown longer at every word:</span><br />
+&#8220;But, now that you&#8217;ve stated the whole of your case,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More debate would be simply absurd.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The rest of my speech&#8221; (he explained to his men)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;You shall hear when I&#8217;ve leisure to speak it.</span><br />
+But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8217;Tis your glorious duty to seek it!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To pursue it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+To threaten its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To charm it with smiles and soap!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i167.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;TO PURSUE IT WITH FORKS AND HOPE.&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;For the Snark&#8217;s a peculiar creature, that won&#8217;t<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Be caught in a commonplace way.</span><br />
+Do all that you know, and try all that you don&#8217;t:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Not a chance must be wasted to-day!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For England expects&mdash;I forbear to proceed:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8217;Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:</span><br />
+And you&#8217;d best be unpacking the things that you need<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To rig yourselves out for the fight.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then the Banker endorsed a blank cheque (which he crossed),<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And changed his loose silver for notes:</span><br />
+The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And shook the dust out of his coats:</span><br />
+<br />
+The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each working the grindstone in turn:</span><br />
+But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No interest in the concern:</span><br />
+<br />
+Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And vainly proceeded to cite</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>A number of cases, in which making laces<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had been proved an infringement of right.</span><br />
+<br />
+The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A novel arrangement of bows:</span><br />
+While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was chalking the tip of his nose.</span><br />
+<br />
+But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With yellow kid gloves and a ruff&mdash;</span><br />
+Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which the Bellman declared was all &#8220;stuff.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Introduce me, now there&#8217;s a good fellow,&#8221; he said,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;If we happen to meet it together!&#8221;</span><br />
+And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Said &#8220;That must depend on the weather.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The Beaver went simply galumphing about,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At seeing the Butcher so shy:</span><br />
+And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Made an effort to wink with one eye.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;Be a man!&#8221; cried the Bellman in wrath, as he heard<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Butcher beginning to sob.</span><br />
+&#8220;Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We shall need all our strength for the job!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Fifth.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE BEAVER&#8217;S LESSON.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They pursued it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+They threatened its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They charmed it with smiles and soap.</span><br />
+<br />
+Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For making a separate sally;</span><br />
+And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A dismal and desolate valley.</span><br />
+<br />
+But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It had chosen the very same place:</span><br />
+Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The disgust that appeared in his face.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span><br />
+Each thought he was thinking of nothing but &#8220;Snark&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the glorious work of the day;</span><br />
+And each tried to pretend that he did not remark<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the other was going that way.</span><br />
+<br />
+But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the evening got darker and colder,</span><br />
+Till (merely from nervousness, not from good will)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They marched along shoulder to shoulder.</span><br />
+<br />
+Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And they knew that some danger was near:</span><br />
+The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And even the Butcher felt queer.</span><br />
+<br />
+He thought of his childhood, left far far behind&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That blissful and innocent state&mdash;</span><br />
+The sound so exactly recalled to his mind<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A pencil that squeaks on a slate!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Tis the voice of the Jubjub!&#8221; he suddenly cried.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(This man, that they used to call &#8220;Dunce.&#8221;)</span><br />
+&#8220;As the Bellman would tell you,&#8221; he added with pride,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;I have uttered that sentiment once.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;&#8217;Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You will find I have told it you twice.</span><br />
+&#8217;Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If only I&#8217;ve stated it thrice.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Attending to every word:</span><br />
+But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the third repetition occurred.</span><br />
+<br />
+It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It had somehow contrived to lose count,</span><br />
+And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By reckoning up the amount.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Two added to one&mdash;if that could but be done,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It said, &#8220;with one&#8217;s fingers and thumbs!&#8221;</span><br />
+Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It had taken no pains with its sums.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The thing can be done,&#8221; said the Butcher, &#8220;I think.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The thing must be done, I am sure.</span><br />
+The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The best there is time to procure.&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span><br />
+The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And ink in unfailing supplies:</span><br />
+While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And watched them with wondering eyes.</span><br />
+<br />
+So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As he wrote with a pen in each hand,</span><br />
+And explained all the while in a popular style<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which the Beaver could well understand.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Taking Three as the subject to reason about&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A convenient number to state&mdash;</span><br />
+We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By One Thousand diminished by Eight.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The result we proceed to divide, as you see,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By Nine-Hundred-and-Ninety-and-Two:</span><br />
+Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Exactly and perfectly true.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The method employed I would gladly explain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While I have it so clear in my head,</span><br />
+If I had but the time and you had but the brain&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But much yet remains to be said.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i175.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THE BEAVER BROUGHT PAPER, PORTFOLIO, PENS&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;In one moment I&#8217;ve seen what has hitherto been<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Enveloped in absolute mystery,</span><br />
+And without extra charge I will give you at large<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Lesson in Natural History.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+In his genial way he proceeded to say<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Forgetting all laws of propriety,</span><br />
+And that giving instruction, without introduction,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;As to temper the Jubjub&#8217;s a desperate bird,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Since it lives in perpetual passion:</span><br />
+Its taste in costume is entirely absurd&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is ages ahead of the fashion:</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;But it knows any friend it has met once before:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It never will look at a bribe:</span><br />
+And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And collects&mdash;though it does not subscribe.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:</span><br />
+(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And some, in mahogany kegs:)</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You condense it with locusts and tape:</span><br />
+Still keeping one principal object in view&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To preserve its symmetrical shape.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But he felt that the Lesson must end,</span><br />
+And he wept with delight in attempting to say<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He considered the Beaver his friend:</span><br />
+<br />
+While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More eloquent even than tears,</span><br />
+It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would have taught it in seventy years.</span><br />
+<br />
+They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(For a moment) with noble emotion,</span><br />
+Said &#8220;This amply repays all the wearisome days<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have spent on the billowy ocean!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have seldom if ever been known;</span><br />
+In winter or summer, &#8217;twas always the same&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You could never meet either alone.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><br />
+And when quarrels arose&mdash;as one frequently finds<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour&mdash;</span><br />
+The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And cemented their friendship for ever!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Sixth.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE BARRISTER&#8217;S DREAM.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They pursued it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+They threatened its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They charmed it with smiles and soap.</span><br />
+<br />
+But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the Beaver&#8217;s lace-making was wrong,</span><br />
+Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That his fancy had dwelt on so long.</span><br />
+<br />
+He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,</span><br />
+Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On the charge of deserting its sty.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i180.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;&#8216;YOU MUST KNOW&mdash;&#8217; SAID THE JUDGE: BUT THE SNARK EXCLAIMED &#8216;FUDGE!&#8217;&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the sty was deserted when found:</span><br />
+And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In a soft under-current of sound.</span><br />
+<br />
+The indictment had never been clearly expressed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it seemed that the Snark had begun,</span><br />
+And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What the pig was supposed to have done.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Jury had each formed a different view<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Long before the indictment was read),</span><br />
+And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One word that the others had said.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;You must know&mdash;&#8221; said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed &#8220;Fudge!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That statute is obsolete quite!</span><br />
+Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On an ancient manorial right.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;In the matter of Treason the pig would appear<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To have aided, but scarcely abetted:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you grant the plea &#8216;never indebted.&#8217;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;The fact of Desertion I will not dispute:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But its guilt, as I trust, is removed</span><br />
+(So far as relates to the costs of this suit)<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By the Alibi which has been proved.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;My poor client&#8217;s fate now depends on your votes.&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Here the speaker sat down in his place,</span><br />
+And directed the Judge to refer to his notes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And briefly to sum up the case.</span><br />
+<br />
+But the Judge said he never had summed up before;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So the Snark undertook it instead,</span><br />
+And summed it so well that it came to far more<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Than the Witnesses ever had said!</span><br />
+<br />
+When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As the word was so puzzling to spell;</span><br />
+But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn&#8217;t mind<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Undertaking that duty as well.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><br />
+So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was spent with the toils of the day:</span><br />
+When it said the word &#8220;GUILTY!&#8221; the Jury all groaned<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And some of them fainted away.</span><br />
+<br />
+Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Too nervous to utter a word:</span><br />
+When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the fall of a pin might be heard.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Transportation for life&#8221; was the sentence it gave,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;And <i>then</i> to be fined forty pound.&#8221;</span><br />
+The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the phrase was not legally sound.</span><br />
+<br />
+But their wild exultation was suddenly checked<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the jailer informed them, with tears,</span><br />
+Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As the pig had been dead for some years.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But the Snark, though a little aghast,</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>As the lawyer to whom the defence was intrusted,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went bellowing on to the last.</span><br />
+<br />
+Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To grow every moment more clear:</span><br />
+Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Seventh.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE BANKER&#8217;S FATE.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They pursued it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+They threatened its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They charmed it with smiles and soap.</span><br />
+<br />
+And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was matter for general remark,</span><br />
+Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In his zeal to discover the Snark.</span><br />
+<br />
+But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh</span><br />
+And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For he knew it was useless to fly.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><br />
+He offered large discount&mdash;he offered a cheque<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Drawn &#8220;to bearer&#8221;) for seven-pounds-ten:</span><br />
+But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And grabbed at the Banker again.</span><br />
+<br />
+Without rest or pause&mdash;while those frumious jaws<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went savagely snapping around&mdash;</span><br />
+He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till fainting he fell to the ground.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Led on by that fear-stricken yell:</span><br />
+And the Bellman remarked &#8220;It is just as I feared!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And solemnly tolled on his bell.</span><br />
+<br />
+He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The least likeness to what he had been:</span><br />
+While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A wonderful thing to be seen!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i187.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;SO GREAT WAS HIS FRIGHT THAT HIS WAISTCOAT TURNED WHITE.&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>To the horror of all who were present that day,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He uprose in full evening dress,</span><br />
+And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What his tongue could no longer express.</span><br />
+<br />
+Down he sank in a chair&mdash;ran his hands through his hair&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And chanted in mimsiest tones</span><br />
+Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While he rattled a couple of bones.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Leave him here to his fate&mdash;it is getting so late!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.</span><br />
+&#8220;We have lost half the day. Any further delay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And we sha&#8217;n&#8217;t catch a Snark before night!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+<h3>Fit the Eighth.</h3>
+<p class="center"><i>THE VANISHING.</i></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They pursued it with forks and hope;</span><br />
+They threatened its life with a railway-share;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They charmed it with smiles and soap.</span><br />
+<br />
+They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the Beaver, excited at last,</span><br />
+Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the daylight was nearly past.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;There is Thingumbob shouting!&#8221; the Bellman said.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;He is shouting like mad, only hark!</span><br />
+He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He has certainly found a Snark!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><br />
+They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;He was always a desperate wag!&#8221;</span><br />
+They beheld him&mdash;their Baker&mdash;their hero unnamed&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On the top of a neighbouring crag,</span><br />
+<br />
+Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the next, that wild figure they saw</span><br />
+(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While they waited and listened in awe.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It&#8217;s a Snark!&#8221; was the sound that first came to their ears,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And seemed almost too good to be true.</span><br />
+Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then the ominous words &#8220;It&#8217;s a Boo&mdash;&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A weary and wandering sigh</span><br />
+That sounded like &#8220;&mdash;jum!&#8221; but the others declare<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was only a breeze that went by.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i191.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THEN, SILENCE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They hunted till darkness came on, but they found<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Not a button, or feather, or mark,</span><br />
+By which they could tell that they stood on the ground<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the Baker had met with the Snark.</span><br />
+<br />
+In the midst of the word he was trying to say,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the midst of his laughter and glee,</span><br />
+He had softly and suddenly vanished away&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the Snark <i>was</i> a Boojum, you see.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+<h2>SIZE AND TEARS.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i193.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>When on the sandy shore I sit,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beside the salt sea-wave,</span><br />
+And fall into a weeping fit<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because I dare not shave&mdash;</span><br />
+A little whisper at my ear<br />
+Enquires the reason of my fear.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><br />
+I answer &#8220;If that ruffian Jones<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should recognise me here,</span><br />
+He&#8217;d bellow out my name in tones<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Offensive to the ear:</span><br />
+He chaffs me so on being stout<br />
+(A thing that always puts me out).&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+Ah me! I see him on the cliff!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Farewell, farewell to hope,</span><br />
+If he should look this way, and if<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He&#8217;s got his telescope!</span><br />
+To whatsoever place I flee,<br />
+My odious rival follows me!<br />
+<br />
+For every night, and everywhere,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I meet him out at dinner;</span><br />
+And when I&#8217;ve found some charming fair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And vowed to die or win her,</span><br />
+The wretch (he&#8217;s thin and I am stout)<br />
+Is sure to come and cut me out!</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i195.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;HE&#8217;S THIN AND I AM STOUT&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>The girls (just like them!) all agree<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To praise J. Jones, Esquire:</span><br />
+I ask them what on earth they see<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">About him to admire?</span><br />
+They cry &#8220;He is so sleek and slim,<br />
+It&#8217;s quite a treat to look at him!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+They vanish in tobacco smoke,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those visionary maids&mdash;</span><br />
+I feel a sharp and sudden poke<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Between the shoulder-blades&mdash;</span><br />
+&#8220;Why, Brown, my boy! You&#8217;re growing stout!&#8221;<br />
+(I told you he would find me out!)<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;My growth is not <i>your</i> business, Sir!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;No more it is, my boy!</span><br />
+But if it&#8217;s <i>yours</i>, as I infer,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why, Brown, I give you joy!</span><br />
+A man, whose business prospers so,<br />
+Is just the sort of man to know!<br />
+<br />
+&#8220;It&#8217;s hardly safe, though, talking here&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I&#8217;d best get out of reach:</span><br />
+For such a weight as yours, I fear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Must shortly sink the beach!&#8221;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><br />
+Insult me thus because I&#8217;m stout!<br />
+I vow I&#8217;ll go and call him out!</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i197.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN.</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ay, &#8217;twas here, on this spot,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">In that summer of yore,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Atalanta did not</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Vote my presence a bore,</span><br />
+Nor reply to my tenderest talk &#8220;She had heard all that nonsense before.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">She&#8217;d the brooch I had bought</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And the necklace and sash on,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And her heart, as I thought,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Was alive to my passion;</span><br />
+And she&#8217;d done up her hair in the style that the Empress had brought into fashion.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i199.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 5em;">I had been to the play</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">With my pearl of a Peri&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But, for all I could say,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">She declared she was weary,</span><br />
+That &#8220;the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn&#8217;t abide that Dundreary.&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then I thought &#8220;&#8217;Tis for me</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">That she whines and she whimpers!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And it soothed me to see</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Those sensational simpers,</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>And I said &#8220;This is scrumptious!&#8221;&mdash;a phrase I had learned from the Devonshire shrimpers.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And I vowed &#8220;&#8217;Twill be said</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I&#8217;m a fortunate fellow,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">When the breakfast is spread,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">When the topers are mellow,</span><br />
+When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow!&#8221;<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">O that languishing yawn!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">O those eloquent eyes!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">I was drunk with the dawn</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Of a splendid surmise&mdash;</span><br />
+I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by a tempest of sighs.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And I whispered &#8220;&#8217;Tis time!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is not Love at its deepest?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Shall we squander Life&#8217;s prime,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While thou waitest and weepest?</span><br />
+Let us settle it, License or Banns?&mdash;though undoubtedly Banns are the cheapest.&#8221;<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">&#8220;Ah, my Hero,&#8221; said I,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">&#8220;Let me be thy Leander!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But I lost her reply&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Something ending with &#8220;gander&#8221;&mdash;</span><br />
+For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could quite understand her.</td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE LANG COORTIN&#8217;.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>The ladye she stood at her lattice high,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi&#8217; her doggie at her feet;</span><br />
+Thorough the lattice she can spy<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The passers in the street.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;There&#8217;s one that standeth at the door,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And tirleth at the pin:</span><br />
+Now speak and say, my popinjay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If I sall let him in.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then up and spake the popinjay<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That flew abune her head:</span><br />
+&#8220;Gae let him in that tirls the pin:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He cometh thee to wed.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+O when he cam&#8217; the parlour in,<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A woeful man was he!</span><br />
+&#8220;And dinna ye ken your lover agen,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sae well that loveth thee?&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i203.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8220;And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That have been sae lang away?</span><br />
+And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ye never telled me sae.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Said&mdash;&#8220;Ladye dear,&#8221; and the salt, salt tear<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cam&#8217; rinnin&#8217; doon his cheek,</span><br />
+&#8220;I have sent thee tokens of my love<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This many and many a week.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The rings o&#8217; the gowd sae fine?</span><br />
+I wot that I have sent to thee<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four score, four score and nine.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;They cam&#8217; to me,&#8221; said that fair ladye.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Wow, they were flimsie things!&#8221;</span><br />
+Said&mdash;&#8220;that chain o&#8217; gowd, my doggie to howd,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It is made o&#8217; thae self-same rings.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And didna ye get the locks, the locks,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The locks o&#8217; my ain black hair,</span><br />
+Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whilk I sent by the carrier?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;They cam&#8217; to me,&#8221; said that fair ladye;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;And I prithee send nae mair!&#8221;</span><br />
+Said&mdash;&#8220;that cushion sae red, for my doggie&#8217;s head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It is stuffed wi&#8217; thae locks o&#8217; hair.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tied wi&#8217; a silken string,</span><br />
+Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A message of love to bring?&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;It cam&#8217; to me frae the far countrie<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi&#8217; its silken string and a&#8217;;</span><br />
+But it wasna prepaid,&#8221; said that high-born maid,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Sae I gar&#8217;d them tak&#8217; it awa&#8217;.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;O ever alack that ye sent it back,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It was written sae clerkly and well!</span><br />
+Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I must even say it mysel&#8217;.&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then up and spake the popinjay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sae wisely counselled he.</span><br />
+&#8220;Now say it in the proper way:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gae doon upon thy knee!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The lover he turned baith red and pale,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Went doon upon his knee:</span><br />
+&#8220;O Ladye, hear the waesome tale<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That must be told to thee!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For five lang years, and five lang years,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I coorted thee by looks;</span><br />
+By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As I had read in books.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;For ten lang years, O weary hours!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I coorted thee by signs;</span><br />
+By sending game, by sending flowers,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By sending Valentines.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;For five lang years, and five lang years,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I have dwelt in the far countrie,</span><br />
+Till that thy mind should be inclined<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Mair tenderly to me.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Now thirty years are gane and past,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I am come frae a foreign land:</span><br />
+I am come to tell thee my love at last&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O Ladye, gie me thy hand!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The ladye she turned not pale nor red,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But she smiled a pitiful smile:</span><br />
+&#8220;Sic&#8217; a coortin&#8217; as yours, my man,&#8221; she said<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">&#8220;Takes a lang and a weary while!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+And out and laughed the popinjay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A laugh of bitter scorn:</span><br />
+&#8220;A coortin&#8217; done in sic&#8217; a way,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It ought not to be borne!&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i207.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;AND OUT AND LAUGHED THE POPINJAY&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Wi&#8217; that the doggie barked aloud,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And up and doon he ran,</span><br />
+And tugged and strained his chain o&#8217; gowd,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All for to bite the man.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;O hush thee, gentle popinjay!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O hush thee, doggie dear!</span><br />
+There is a word I fain wad say,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It needeth he should hear!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Aye louder screamed that ladye fair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To drown her doggie&#8217;s bark:</span><br />
+Ever the lover shouted mair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To make that ladye hark:</span><br />
+<br />
+Shrill and more shrill the popinjay<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Upraised his angry squall:</span><br />
+I trow the doggie&#8217;s voice that day<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Was louder than them all!</span><br />
+<br />
+The serving-men and serving-maids<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sat by the kitchen fire:</span><br />
+They heard sic&#8217; a din the parlour within<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As made them much admire.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i209.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;O HUSH THEE, GENTLE POPINJAY!&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Out spake the boy in buttons<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(I ween he wasna thin),</span><br />
+&#8220;Now wha will tae the parlour gae,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And stay this deadlie din?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+And they have taen a kerchief,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Casted their kevils in,</span><br />
+For wha should tae the parlour gae,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And stay that deadlie din.</span><br />
+<br />
+When on that boy the kevil fell<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To stay the fearsome noise,</span><br />
+&#8220;Gae in,&#8221; they cried, &#8220;whate&#8217;er betide,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou prince of button-boys!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Syne, he has taen a supple cane<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To swinge that dog sae fat:</span><br />
+The doggie yowled, the doggie howled<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The louder aye for that.</span><br />
+<br />
+Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The doggie ceased his noise,</span><br />
+And followed doon the kitchen stair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That prince of button-boys!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i211.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;THE DOGGIE CEASED HIS NOISE&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Then sadly spake that ladye fair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi&#8217; a frown upon her brow:</span><br />
+&#8220;O dearer to me is my sma&#8217; doggie<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Than a dozen sic&#8217; as thou!</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nae use at all to fret:</span><br />
+Sin&#8217; ye&#8217;ve bided sae well for thirty years,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ye may bide a wee langer yet!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And tirl&euml;d at the pin:</span><br />
+Sadly went he through the door<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where sadly he cam&#8217; in.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;O gin I had a popinjay<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To fly abune my head,</span><br />
+To tell me what I ought to say,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I had by this been wed.</span><br />
+<br />
+&#8220;O gin I find anither ladye,&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He said wi&#8217; sighs and tears,</span><br />
+&#8220;I wot my coortin&#8217; sall not be<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Anither thirty years:</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span><br />
+&#8220;For gin I find a ladye gay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Exactly to my taste,</span><br />
+I&#8217;ll pop the question, aye or nay,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In twenty years at maist.&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i213.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FOUR RIDDLES.</h2>
+
+<div class="note">
+<p>[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades.</p>
+
+<p>No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had gone to a
+ball at an Oxford Commemoration&mdash;and also as a specimen of what might be
+done by making the Double Acrostic <i>a connected poem</i> instead of what it
+has hitherto been, a string of disjointed stanzas, on every conceivable
+subject, and about as interesting to read straight through as a page of a
+Cyclop&aelig;dia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each
+subsequent stanza one of the cross &#8220;lights.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the play of
+&#8220;Hamlet.&#8221; In this case the first stanza describes the two main words.</p>
+
+<p>No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr.
+Gilbert&#8217;s play of &#8220;Pygmalion and Galatea.&#8221; The three stanzas respectively
+describe &#8220;My First,&#8221; &#8220;My Second,&#8221; and &#8220;My Whole.&#8221;]</p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>There was an ancient City, stricken down<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a strange frenzy, and for many a day</span><br />
+They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And danced the night away.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><br />
+I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They pointed to a building gray and tall,</span><br />
+And hoarsely answered &#8220;Step inside, my lad,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And then you&#8217;ll see it all.&#8221;</span></td></tr></table>
+<hr style='width: 15%;' />
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Yet what are all such gaieties to me<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?</span><br />
+x<sup>2</sup> + 7x + 53<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">= <span style="font-size: 0.8em;"><sup>11</sup></span>&frasl;<span style="font-size: 0.6em;">3</span>.</span><br />
+<br />
+But something whispered &#8220;It will soon be done:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:</span><br />
+Endure with patience the distasteful fun<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">For just a little while!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+A change came o&#8217;er my Vision&mdash;it was night:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:</span><br />
+The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">The chariots whirled along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Within a marble hall a river ran&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:</span><br />
+And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yet swallowed down her wrath;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><br />
+And here one offered to a thirsty fair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful)</span><br />
+Some frozen viand (there were many there),<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A tooth-ache in each spoonful.</span><br />
+<br />
+There comes a happy pause, for human strength<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Will not endure to dance without cessation;</span><br />
+And every one must reach the point at length<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Of absolute prostration.</span><br />
+<br />
+At such a moment ladies learn to give,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To partners who would urge them over-much,</span><br />
+A flat and yet decided negative&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Photographers love such.</span><br />
+<br />
+There comes a welcome summons&mdash;hope revives,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken:</span><br />
+Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Dispense the tongue and chicken.</span><br />
+<br />
+Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And all is tangled talk and mazy motion&mdash;</span><br />
+Much like a waving field of golden grain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Or a tempestuous ocean.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span><br />
+And thus they give the time, that Nature meant<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For peaceful sleep and meditative snores,</span><br />
+To ceaseless din and mindless merriment<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And waste of shoes and floors.</span><br />
+<br />
+And One (we name him not) that flies the flowers,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads,</span><br />
+They doom to pass in solitude the hours,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Writing acrostic-ballads.</span><br />
+<br />
+How late it grows! The hour is surely past<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That should have warned us with its double-knock?</span><br />
+The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">&#8220;Oh, Uncle, what&#8217;s o&#8217;clock?&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+The Uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It <i>may</i> mean much, but how is one to know?</span><br />
+He opes his mouth&mdash;yet out of it, methinks,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">No words of wisdom flow.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p>
+<h3>II.</h3>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Empress of Art, for thee I twine<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This wreath with all too slender skill.</span><br />
+Forgive my Muse each halting line,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And for the deed accept the will!</span></td></tr></table>
+<hr style='width: 15%;' />
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Parting, like Death&#8217;s cold river, souls that love?</span><br />
+Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?</span><br />
+<br />
+And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:</span><br />
+And these wild words of fury but proclaim<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!</span><br />
+<br />
+But all is lost: that mighty mind o&#8217;erthrown,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!</span><br />
+&#8220;Doubt that the stars are fire,&#8221; so runs his moan,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!&#8221;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><br />
+A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile!</span><br />
+And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile?</span><br />
+<br />
+Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers:</span><br />
+In holy silence wait the appointed days,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And weep away the leaden-footed hours.</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>The air is bright with hues of light<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And rich with laughter and with singing:</span><br />
+Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And banners wave, and bells are ringing:</span><br />
+But silence falls with fading day,<br />
+And there&#8217;s an end to mirth and play.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, well-a-day!</span><br />
+<br />
+Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The kettle sings, the firelight dances.</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That fills the soul with golden fancies!</span><br />
+For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,<br />
+And ye are withered, worn, and gray.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, well-a-day!</span><br />
+<br />
+O fair cold face! O form of grace,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For human passion madly yearning!</span><br />
+O weary air of dumb despair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From marble won, to marble turning!</span><br />
+&#8220;Leave us not thus!&#8221; we fondly pray.<br />
+&#8220;We cannot let thee pass away!&#8221;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, well-a-day!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>IV.</h3>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>My First is singular at best:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">More plural is my Second:</span><br />
+My Third is far the pluralest&mdash;<br />
+So plural-plural, I protest<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It scarcely can be reckoned!</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><br />
+My First is followed by a bird:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My Second by believers</span><br />
+In magic art: my simple Third<br />
+Follows, too often, hopes absurd<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And plausible deceivers.</span><br />
+<br />
+My First to get at wisdom tries&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A failure melancholy!</span><br />
+My Second men revered as wise:<br />
+My Third from heights of wisdom flies<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To depths of frantic folly.</span><br />
+<br />
+My First is ageing day by day:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My Second&#8217;s age is ended:</span><br />
+My Third enjoys an age, they say,<br />
+That never seems to fade away,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through centuries extended.</span><br />
+<br />
+My Whole? I need a poet&#8217;s pen<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To paint her myriad phases:</span><br />
+The monarch, and the slave, of men&mdash;<br />
+A mountain-summit, and a den<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of dark and deadly mazes&mdash;</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><br />
+A flashing light&mdash;a fleeting shade&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beginning, end, and middle</span><br />
+Of all that human art hath made<br />
+Or wit devised! Go, seek <i>her</i> aid,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If you would read my riddle!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FAME&#8217;S PENNY-TRUMPET.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">[Affectionately dedicated to all &#8220;original researchers&#8221; who pant for &#8220;endowment.&#8221;]</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ye little men of little souls!</span><br />
+And bid them huddle at your back&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals!</span><br />
+<br />
+Fill all the air with hungry wails&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&#8220;Reward us, ere we think or write!</span><br />
+Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To sate the swinish appetite!&#8221;</span><br />
+<br />
+And, where great Plato paced serene,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or Newton paused with wistful eye,</span><br />
+Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Babel-clamour of the sty!</span><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><br />
+Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We will not rob them of their due,</span><br />
+Nor vex the ghosts of other days<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By naming them along with you.</span><br />
+<br />
+They sought and found undying fame:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They toiled not for reward nor thanks:</span><br />
+Their cheeks are hot with honest shame<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For you, the modern mountebanks!</span><br />
+<br />
+Who preach of Justice&mdash;plead with tears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That Love and Mercy should abound&mdash;</span><br />
+While marking with complacent ears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The moaning of some tortured hound:</span><br />
+<br />
+Who prate of Wisdom&mdash;nay, forbear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath,</span><br />
+Trampling, with heel that will not spare,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The vermin that beset her path!</span><br />
+<br />
+Go, throng each other&#8217;s drawing-rooms,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ye idols of a petty clique:</span><br />
+Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And make your penny-trumpets squeak:</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i225.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="center"><small>&#8220;GO, THRONG EACH OTHER&#8217;S DRAWING-ROOMS&#8221;</small></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of learning from a nobler time,</span><br />
+And oil each other&#8217;s little heads<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With mutual Flattery&#8217;s golden slime:</span><br />
+<br />
+And when the topmost height ye gain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And stand in Glory&#8217;s ether clear,</span><br />
+And grasp the prize of all your pain&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So many hundred pounds a year&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Then let Fame&#8217;s banner be unfurled!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sing P&aelig;ans for a victory won!</span><br />
+Ye tapers, that would light the world,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And cast a shadow on the Sun&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Who still shall pour His rays sublime,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One crystal flood, from East to West,</span><br />
+When ye have burned your little time<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And feebly flickered into rest!</span></td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">THE END.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="note"><p class="right">[TURN OVER.</p></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<div class="adverts">
+<h2>WORKS BY LEWIS CARROLL.</h2>
+
+<p class="hang">ALICE&#8217;S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. With Forty-two Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Tenniel</span>.
+Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6<i>s.</i> Seventy-first Thousand.</p>
+
+<p class="hang">TRANSLATIONS OF THE SAME&mdash;into French, by <span class="smcap">Henri Bu&eacute;</span>&mdash;into German, by
+<span class="smcap">Antonie Zimmermann</span>&mdash;and into Italian, by <span class="smcap">T. Pietroc&ograve;la Rossetti</span>&mdash;with
+<span class="smcap">Tenniel&#8217;s</span> Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6<i>s.</i> each.</p>
+
+<p class="hang">THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS, AND WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE. With Fifty
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Tenniel</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6<i>s.</i>
+Fifty-second Thousand.</p>
+
+<p class="hang">RHYME? AND REASON? With Sixty-five Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Arthur B. Frost</span>, and
+Nine by <span class="smcap">Henry Holiday</span>. (This book is a reprint, with a few additions, of
+the comic portion of &#8220;Phantasmagoria and other Poems,&#8221; and of &#8220;The Hunting
+of the Snark.&#8221; Mr. Frost&#8217;s pictures are new.) Crown 8vo, cloth, coloured
+edges, price 7<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<p>N.B. In selling the above-mentioned books to the Trade, Messrs. Macmillan
+and Co. will abate 2<i>d.</i> in the shilling (no odd copies), and allow 5 per
+cent. discount for payment within six months, and 10 per cent. for cash.
+In selling them to the Public (for cash only) they will allow 10 per cent.
+discount.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis Carroll</span>, having been requested to allow &#8220;<span class="smcap">An Easter Greeting</span>&#8221; (a
+leaflet, addressed to children, and frequently given with his books) to be
+sold separately, has arranged with Messrs. HARRISON, of 59, Pall Mall, who
+will supply a single copy for 1<i>d.</i>, or 12 for 9<i>d.</i>, or 100 for 5<i>s.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">MACMILLAN &amp; CO., LONDON.</p>
+<p class="center">LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><b>Footnote:</b></p>
+
+<p><a name="f1" id="f1" href="#f1.1">[1]</a> This office was usually undertaken by the Boots, who found in it
+a refuge from the Baker&#8217;s constant complaints about the insufficient blacking of his three pair of boots.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhyme? And Reason?, by Lewis Carroll
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Rhyme? And Reason?
+
+Author: Lewis Carroll
+
+Illustrator: Arthur B.  Frost
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2010 [EBook #33582]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYME? AND REASON? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RHYME? AND REASON?
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "UPON A BATTLEMENT." _See_ p. 30.]
+
+
+
+
+  RHYME?
+  AND REASON?
+
+
+  BY LEWIS CARROLL
+
+
+  _WITH SIXTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS_
+  BY ARTHUR B. FROST
+
+  _AND NINE_
+  BY HENRY HOLIDAY
+
+
+  I have had nor rhyme nor reason
+
+
+  _PRICE SEVEN SHILLINGS_
+  London
+  MACMILLAN AND CO.
+  1883
+  [_All Rights Reserved_]
+
+
+
+  London:
+  R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR
+  BREAD STREET HILL, E.C.
+
+
+
+
+  Inscribed to a dear Child:
+  in memory of golden summer hours
+  and whispers of a summer sea.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task,
+      Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well
+  Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask
+          The tale one loves to tell.
+
+  Rude scoffer of the seething outer strife,
+      Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright,
+  Deem, if thou wilt, such hours a waste of life,
+          Empty of all delight!
+
+  Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy
+      Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled;
+  Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy,
+          The heart-love of a child!
+
+  Away, fond thoughts, and vex my soul no more!
+      Work claims my wakeful nights, my busy days
+  Albeit bright memories of that sunlit shore
+          Yet haunt my dreaming gaze!
+
+
+
+
+[Of the following poems, ECHOES, A GAME OF FIVES, the last three of the
+FOUR RIDDLES, and FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET, are here published for the first
+time. The others have all appeared before, as have also the illustrations
+to THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK.]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                        PAGE
+
+  PHANTASMAGORIA, in Seven Cantos:--
+
+        I. The Trystyng                                    1
+
+       II. Hys Fyve Rules                                 10
+
+      III. Scarmoges                                      18
+
+       IV. Hys Nouryture                                  26
+
+        V. Byckerment                                     34
+
+       VI. Dyscomfyture                                   44
+
+      VII. Sad Souvenaunce                                53
+
+  ECHOES                                                  58
+
+  A SEA DIRGE                                             59
+
+  Y{E} CARPETTE KNYGHTE                                   64
+
+  HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING                                66
+
+  MELANCHOLETTA                                           78
+
+  A VALENTINE                                             84
+
+  THE THREE VOICES:--
+
+      The First Voice                                     87
+
+      The Second Voice                                    98
+
+      The Third Voice                                    109
+
+  TEMA CON VARIAZIONI                                    118
+
+  A GAME OF FIVES                                        120
+
+  POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR                                123
+
+  THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK, an Agony in Eight Fits:--
+
+         I. THE LANDING                                  134
+
+        II. THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH                         142
+
+       III. THE BAKER'S TALE                             148
+
+        IV. THE HUNTING                                  153
+
+         V. THE BEAVER'S LESSON                          159
+
+        VI. THE BARRISTER'S DREAM                        167
+
+       VII. THE BANKER'S FATE                            173
+
+      VIII. THE VANISHING                                177
+
+  SIZE AND TEARS                                         181
+
+  ATALANTA IN CAMDEN TOWN                                186
+
+  THE LANG COORTIN'                                      190
+
+  FOUR RIDDLES                                           202
+
+  FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET                                   211
+
+
+
+
+PHANTASMAGORIA.
+
+
+CANTO I.
+
+The Trystyng.
+
+  One winter night, at half-past nine,
+      Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
+  I had come home, too late to dine,
+  And supper, with cigars and wine,
+      Was waiting in the study.
+
+  There was a strangeness in the room,
+      And Something white and wavy
+  Was standing near me in the gloom--
+  _I_ took it for the carpet-broom
+      Left by that careless slavey.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But presently the Thing began
+      To shiver and to sneeze:
+  On which I said "Come, come, my man!
+  That's a most inconsiderate plan.
+      Less noise there, if you please!"
+
+  "I've caught a cold," the Thing replies,
+      "Out there upon the landing."
+  I turned to look in some surprise,
+  And there, before my very eyes,
+      A little Ghost was standing!
+
+  He trembled when he caught my eye,
+      And got behind a chair.
+  "How came you here," I said, "and why?
+  I never saw a thing so shy.
+      Come out! Don't shiver there!"
+
+  He said "I'd gladly tell you how,
+      And also tell you why;
+  But" (here he gave a little bow)
+  "You're in so bad a temper now,
+      You'd think it all a lie.
+
+  "And as to being in a fright,
+      Allow me to remark
+  That Ghosts have just as good a right,
+  In every way, to fear the light,
+      As Men to fear the dark."
+
+  "No plea," said I, "can well excuse
+      Such cowardice in you:
+  For Ghosts can visit when they choose,
+  Whereas we Humans ca'n't refuse
+      To grant the interview."
+
+  He said "A flutter of alarm
+      Is not unnatural, is it?
+  I really feared you meant some harm:
+  But, now I see that you are calm,
+      Let me explain my visit.
+
+  "Houses are classed, I beg to state,
+      According to the number
+  Of Ghosts that they accommodate:
+  (The Tenant merely counts as _weight_,
+      With Coals and other lumber).
+
+  "This is a 'one-ghost' house, and you
+      When you arrived last summer,
+  May have remarked a Spectre who
+  Was doing all that Ghosts can do
+      To welcome the new-comer.
+
+  "In Villas this is always done--
+      However cheaply rented:
+  For, though of course there's less of fun
+  When there is only room for one,
+      Ghosts have to be contented.
+
+  "That Spectre left you on the Third--
+      Since then you've not been haunted:
+  For, as he never sent us word,
+  'Twas quite by accident we heard
+      That any one was wanted.
+
+  "A Spectre has first choice, by right,
+      In filling up a vacancy;
+  Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite--
+  If all these fail them, they invite
+      The nicest Ghoul that they can see.
+
+  "The Spectres said the place was low,
+      And that you kept bad wine:
+  So, as a Phantom had to go,
+  And I was first, of course, you know,
+      I couldn't well decline."
+
+  "No doubt," said I, "they settled who
+      Was fittest to be sent:
+  Yet still to choose a brat like you,
+  To haunt a man of forty-two,
+      Was no great compliment!"
+
+  "I'm not so young, Sir," he replied,
+      "As you might think. The fact is,
+  In caverns by the water-side,
+  And other places that I've tried,
+      I've had a lot of practice:
+
+  "But I have never taken yet
+      A strict domestic part,
+  And in my flurry I forget
+  The Five Good Rules of Etiquette
+      We have to know by heart."
+
+  My sympathies were warming fast
+      Towards the little fellow:
+  He was so utterly aghast
+  At having found a Man at last,
+      And looked so scared and yellow.
+
+[Illustration: "IN CAVERNS BY THE WATER-SIDE"]
+
+  "At least," I said, "I'm glad to find
+      A Ghost is not a _dumb_ thing!
+  But pray sit down: you'll feel inclined
+  (If, like myself, you have not dined)
+      To take a snack of something:
+
+  "Though, certainly, you don't appear
+      A thing to offer _food_ to!
+  And then I shall be glad to hear--
+  If you will say them loud and clear--
+      The Rules that you allude to."
+
+  "Thanks! You shall hear them by and by
+      This _is_ a piece of luck!"
+  "What may I offer you?" said I.
+  "Well, since you _are_ so kind, I'll try
+      A little bit of duck.
+
+  "_One_ slice! And may I ask you for
+      Another drop of gravy?"
+  I sat and looked at him in awe,
+  For certainly I never saw
+      A thing so white and wavy.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And still he seemed to grow more white,
+      More vapoury, and wavier--
+  Seen in the dim and flickering light,
+  As he proceeded to recite
+      His "Maxims of Behaviour."
+
+
+CANTO II.
+
+Hys Fyve Rules.
+
+  "My First--but don't suppose," he said,
+      "I'm setting you a riddle--
+  Is--if your Victim be in bed,
+  Don't touch the curtains at his head,
+      But take them in the middle,
+
+  "And wave them slowly in and out,
+      While drawing them asunder;
+  And in a minute's time, no doubt,
+  He'll raise his head and look about
+      With eyes of wrath and wonder.
+
+  "And here you must on no pretence
+      Make the first observation.
+  Wait for the Victim to commence:
+  No Ghost of any common sense
+      Begins a conversation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "If he should say '_How came you here?_'
+      (The way that _you_ began, Sir,)
+  In such a case your course is clear--
+  '_On the bat's back, my little dear!_'
+      Is the appropriate answer.
+
+  "If after this he says no more,
+      You'd best perhaps curtail your
+  Exertions--go and shake the door,
+  And then, if he begins to snore,
+      You'll know the thing's a failure.
+
+  "By day, if he should be alone--
+      At home or on a walk--
+  You merely give a hollow groan,
+  To indicate the kind of tone
+      In which you mean to talk.
+
+  "But if you find him with his friends,
+      The thing is rather harder.
+  In such a case success depends
+  On picking up some candle-ends,
+      Or butter, in the larder.
+
+  "With this you make a kind of slide
+      (It answers best with suet),
+  On which you must contrive to glide,
+  And swing yourself from side to side--
+      One soon learns how to do it.
+
+  "The Second tells us what is right
+      In ceremonious calls:--
+  '_First burn a blue or crimson light_'
+  (A thing I quite forgot to-night),
+      '_Then scratch the door or walls._'"
+
+[Illustration: "AND SWING YOURSELF FROM SIDE TO SIDE"]
+
+  I said "You'll visit _here_ no more,
+      If you attempt the Guy.
+  I'll have no bonfires on _my_ floor--
+  And, as for scratching at the door,
+      I'd like to see you try!"
+
+  "The Third was written to protect
+      The interests of the Victim,
+  And tells us, as I recollect,
+  _To treat him with a grave respect,
+      And not to contradict him_."
+
+  "That's plain," said I, "as Tare and Tret,
+      To any comprehension:
+  I only wish _some_ Ghosts I've met
+  Would not so _constantly_ forget
+      The maxim that you mention!"
+
+  "Perhaps," he said, "_you_ first transgressed
+      The laws of hospitality:
+  All Ghosts instinctively detest
+  The Man that fails to treat his guest
+      With proper cordiality.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "If you address a Ghost as 'Thing!'
+      Or strike him with a hatchet,
+  He is permitted by the King
+  To drop all _formal_ parleying--
+      And then you're _sure_ to catch it!
+
+  "The Fourth prohibits trespassing
+      Where other Ghosts are quartered:
+  And those convicted of the thing
+  (Unless when pardoned by the King)
+      Must instantly be slaughtered.
+
+  "That simply means 'be cut up small':
+      Ghosts soon unite anew:
+  The process scarcely hurts at all--
+  Not more than when _you're_ what you call
+      'Cut up' by a Review.
+
+  "The Fifth is one you may prefer
+      That I should quote entire:--
+  _The King must be addressed as 'Sir.'
+  This, from a simple courtier,
+      Is all the Laws require_:
+
+  "_But, should you wish to do the thing
+      With out-and-out politeness,
+  Accost him as 'My Goblin King!'
+  And always use, in answering,
+      The phrase 'Your Royal Whiteness!'_
+
+  "I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear,
+      After so much reciting:
+  So, if you don't object, my dear,
+  We'll try a glass of bitter beer--
+      I think it looks inviting."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO III.
+
+Scarmoges.
+
+  "And did you really walk," said I,
+      "On such a wretched night?
+  I always fancied Ghosts could fly--
+  If not exactly in the sky,
+      Yet at a fairish height."
+
+  "It's very well," said he, "for Kings
+      To soar above the earth:
+  But Phantoms often find that wings--
+  Like many other pleasant things--
+      Cost more than they are worth.
+
+  "Spectres of course are rich, and so
+      Can buy them from the Elves:
+  But _we_ prefer to keep below--
+  They're stupid company, you know.
+      For any but themselves:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "For, though they claim to be exempt
+      From pride, they treat a Phantom
+  As something quite beneath contempt--
+  Just as no Turkey ever dreamt
+      Of noticing a Bantam."
+
+  "They seem too proud," said I, "to go
+      To houses such as mine.
+  Pray, how did they contrive to know
+  So quickly that 'the place was low,'
+      And that I 'kept bad wine'?"
+
+  "Inspector Kobold came to you--"
+      The little Ghost began.
+  Here I broke in--"Inspector who?
+  Inspecting Ghosts is something new!
+      Explain yourself my man!"
+
+  "His name is Kobold," said my guest:
+      "One of the Spectre order:
+  You'll very often see him dressed
+  In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,
+      And a night-cap with a border.
+
+  "He tried the Brocken business first,
+      But caught a sort of chill;
+  So came to England to be nursed,
+  And here it took the form of _thirst_,
+      Which he complains of still.
+
+[Illustration: "AND HERE IT TOOK THE FORM OF _THIRST_"]
+
+  "Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,
+      Warms his old bones like nectar:
+  And as the inns, where it is found,
+  Are his especial hunting-ground,
+      We call him the _Inn-Spectre_."
+
+  I bore it--bore it like a man--
+      This agonizing witticism!
+  And nothing could be sweeter than
+  My temper, till the Ghost began
+      Some most provoking criticism.
+
+  "Cooks need not be indulged in waste;
+      Yet still you'd better teach them
+  Dishes should have _some sort_ of taste.
+  Pray, why are all the cruets placed
+      Where nobody can reach them?
+
+  "That man of yours will never earn
+      His living as a waiter!
+  Is that queer _thing_ supposed to burn?
+  (It's far too dismal a concern
+      To call a Moderator).
+
+  "The duck was tender, but the peas
+      Were very much too old:
+  And just remember, if you please,
+  The _next_ time you have toasted cheese,
+      Don't let them send it cold.
+
+  "You'd find the bread improved, I think,
+      By getting better flour:
+  And have you anything to drink
+  That looks a _little_ less like ink,
+      And isn't _quite_ so sour?"
+
+  Then, peering round with curious eyes,
+      He muttered "Goodness gracious!"
+  And so went on to criticise--
+  "Your room's an inconvenient size:
+      It's neither snug nor spacious.
+
+  "That narrow window, I expect,
+      Serves but to let the dusk in--"
+  "But please," said I, "to recollect
+  'Twas fashioned by an architect
+      Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!"
+
+  "I don't care who he was, Sir, or
+      On whom he pinned his faith!
+  Constructed by whatever law,
+  So poor a job I never saw,
+      As I'm a living Wraith!
+
+  "What a re-markable cigar!
+      How much are they a dozen?"
+  I growled "No matter what they are!
+  You're getting as familiar
+      As if you were my cousin!
+
+  "Now that's a thing _I will not stand_,
+      And so I tell you flat."
+  "Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!"
+  (Taking a bottle in his hand)
+      "I'll soon arrange for _that_!"
+
+  And here he took a careful aim,
+      And gaily cried "Here goes!"
+  I tried to dodge it as it came,
+  But somehow caught it, all the same,
+      Exactly on my nose.
+
+  And I remember nothing more
+      That I can clearly fix,
+  Till I was sitting on the floor,
+  Repeating "Two and five are four,
+      But _five and two_ are six."
+
+  What really passed I never learned,
+      Nor guessed: I only know
+  That, when at last my sense returned,
+  The lamp, neglected, dimly burned--
+      The fire was getting low--
+
+  Through driving mists I seemed to see
+      A Thing that smirked and smiled:
+  And found that he was giving me
+  A lesson in Biography,
+      As if I were a child.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO IV.
+
+Hys Nouryture.
+
+  "Oh, when I was a little Ghost,
+      A merry time had we!
+  Each seated on his favourite post,
+  We chumped and chawed the buttered toast
+      They gave us for our tea."
+
+  "That story is in print!" I cried.
+      "Don't say it's not, because
+  It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!"
+  (The Ghost uneasily replied
+      He hardly thought it was).
+
+  "It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet
+      I almost think it is--
+  'Three little Ghosteses' were set
+  'On posteses,' you know, and ate
+      Their 'buttered toasteses.'
+
+  "I have the book; so, if you doubt it--"
+      I turned to search the shelf.
+  "Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it;
+  I now remember all about it;
+      I wrote the thing myself.
+
+  "It came out in a 'Monthly,' or
+      At least my agent said it did:
+  Some literary swell, who saw
+  It, thought it seemed adapted for
+      The Magazine he edited.
+
+  "My father was a Brownie, Sir;
+      My mother was a Fairy.
+  The notion had occurred to her,
+  The children would be happier,
+      If they were taught to vary.
+
+  "The notion soon became a craze;
+      And, when it once began, she
+  Brought us all out in different ways--
+  One was a Pixy, two were Fays,
+      Another was a Banshee;
+
+  "The Fetch and Kelpie went to school,
+      And gave a lot of trouble;
+  Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,
+  And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),
+      A Goblin, and a Double--
+
+  "(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf,"
+      He added with a yawn,
+  "I'll take a pinch)--next came an Elf,
+  And then a Phantom (that's myself),
+      And last, a Leprechaun.
+
+  "One day, some Spectres chanced to call,
+      Dressed in the usual white:
+  I stood and watched them in the hall,
+  And couldn't make them out at all,
+      They seemed so strange a sight.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "I wondered what on earth they were,
+      That looked all head and sack;
+  But Mother told me not to stare,
+  And then she twitched me by the hair,
+      And punched me in the back.
+
+  "Since then I've often wished that I
+      Had been a Spectre born.
+  But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh).
+  "_They_ are the ghost-nobility,
+      And look on _us_ with scorn.
+
+  "My phantom-life was soon begun:
+      When I was barely six,
+  I went out with an older one--
+  And just at first I thought it fun,
+      And learned a lot of tricks.
+
+  "I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers--
+      Wherever I was sent:
+  I've often sat and howled for hours,
+  Drenched to the skin with driving showers,
+      Upon a battlement.
+
+  "It's quite old-fashioned now to groan
+      When you begin to speak:
+  This is the newest thing in tone--"
+  And here (it chilled me to the bone)
+      He gave an _awful_ squeak.
+
+  "Perhaps," he added, "to _your_ ear
+      That sounds an easy thing?
+  Try it yourself, my little dear!
+  It took _me_ something like a year,
+      With constant practising.
+
+  "And when you've learned to squeak, my man
+      And caught the double sob,
+  You're pretty much where you began:
+  Just try and gibber if you can!
+      That's something _like_ a job!
+
+  "_I've_ tried it, and can only say
+      I'm sure you couldn't do it, e-
+  ven if you practised night and day,
+  Unless you have a turn that way,
+      And natural ingenuity.
+
+  "Shakspeare I think it is who treats
+      Of Ghosts, in days of old,
+  Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,'
+  Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets--
+      They must have found it cold.
+
+  "I've often spent ten pounds on stuff,
+      In dressing as a Double;
+  But, though it answers as a puff,
+  It never has effect enough
+      To make it worth the trouble.
+
+  "Long bills soon quenched the little thirst
+      I had for being funny.
+  The setting-up is always worst:
+  Such heaps of things you want at first,
+      One must be made of money!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "For instance, take a Haunted Tower,
+      With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;
+  Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,
+  Condensing lens of extra power,
+      And set of chains complete:
+
+  "What with the things you have to hire--
+      The fitting on the robe--
+  And testing all the coloured fire--
+  The outfit of itself would tire
+      The patience of a Job!
+
+  "And then they're so fastidious,
+      The Haunted-House Committee:
+  I've often known them make a fuss
+  Because a Ghost was French, or Russ,
+      Or even from the City!
+
+  "Some dialects are objected to--
+      For one, the _Irish_ brogue is:
+  And then, for all you have to do,
+  One pound a week they offer you,
+      And find yourself in Bogies!"
+
+
+CANTO V.
+
+Byckerment.
+
+  "Don't they consult the 'Victims,' though?"
+      I said. "They should, by rights,
+  Give them a chance--because, you know,
+  The tastes of people differ so,
+      Especially in Sprites."
+
+  The Phantom shook his head and smiled.
+      "Consult them? Not a bit!
+  'Twould be a job to drive one wild,
+  To satisfy one single child--
+      There'd be no end to it!"
+
+  "Of course you can't leave _children_ free,"
+      Said I, "to pick and choose:
+  But, in the case of men like me,
+  I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be
+      Allowed to state his views."
+
+  He said "It really wouldn't pay--
+      Folk are so full of fancies.
+  We visit for a single day,
+  And whether then we go, or stay,
+      Depends on circumstances.
+
+  "And, though we don't consult 'Mine Host'
+      Before the thing's arranged,
+  Still, if he often quits his post,
+  Or is not a well-mannered Ghost,
+      Then you can have him changed.
+
+  "But if the host's a man like you--
+      I mean a man of sense;
+  And if the house is not too new--"
+  "Why, what has _that_," said I, "to do
+      With Ghost's convenience?"
+
+  "A new house does not suit, you know--
+      It's such a job to trim it:
+  But, after twenty years or so,
+  The wainscotings begin to go,
+      So twenty is the limit."
+
+  "To trim" was not a phrase I could
+      Remember having heard:
+  "Perhaps," I said, "you'll be so good
+  As tell me what is understood
+      Exactly by that word?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "It means the loosening all the doors,"
+      The Ghost replied, and laughed:
+  "It means the drilling holes by scores
+  In all the skirting-boards and floors,
+      To make a thorough draught.
+
+  "You'll sometimes find that one or two
+      Are all you really need
+  To let the wind come whistling through--
+  But _here_ there'll be a lot to do!"
+      I faintly gasped "Indeed!
+
+  "If I'd been rather later, I'll
+      Be bound," I added, trying
+  (Most unsuccessfully) to smile,
+  "You'd have been busy all this while,
+      Trimming and beautifying?"
+
+  "Why, no," said he; "perhaps I should
+      Have stayed another minute--
+  But still no Ghost, that's any good,
+  Without an introduction would
+      Have ventured to begin it.
+
+  "The proper thing, as you were late,
+      Was certainly to go:
+  But, with the roads in such a state,
+  I got the Knight-Mayor's leave to wait
+      For half an hour or so."
+
+  "Who's the Knight-Mayor?" I cried. Instead
+      Of answering my question,
+  "Well! If you don't know _that_," he said,
+  "Either you never go to bed,
+      Or you've a grand digestion!
+
+  "He goes about and sits on folk
+      That eat too much at night:
+  His duties are to pinch, and poke,
+  And squeeze them till they nearly choke."
+      (I said "It serves them right!")
+
+  "And folk that sup on things like these--"
+      He muttered, "eggs and bacon--
+  Lobster--and duck--and toasted cheese--
+  If they don't get an awful squeeze,
+      I'm very much mistaken!
+
+  "He is immensely fat, and so
+      Well suits the occupation:
+  In point of fact, if you must know,
+  We used to call him, years ago,
+      _The Mayor and Corporation_!
+
+[Illustration: "HE GOES ABOUT AND SITS ON FOLK"]
+
+  "The day he was elected Mayor
+      I _know_ that every Sprite meant
+  To vote for _me_, but did not dare--
+  He was so frantic with despair
+      And furious with excitement.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "When it was over, for a whim,
+      He ran to tell the King;
+  And being the reverse of slim,
+  A two-mile trot was not for him
+      A very easy thing.
+
+  "So, to reward him for his run
+      (As it was baking hot,
+  And he was over twenty stone),
+  The King proceeded, half in fun,
+      To knight him on the spot."
+
+  "'Twas a great liberty to take!"
+      (I fired up like a rocket).
+  "He did it just for punning's sake:
+  'The man,' says Johnson, 'that would make
+      A pun, would pick a pocket!'"
+
+  "A man," said he, "is not a King."
+      I argued for a while,
+  And did my best to prove the thing--
+  The Phantom merely listening
+      With a contemptuous smile.
+
+  At last, when, breath and patience spent,
+      I had recourse to smoking--
+  "Your _aim_," he said, "is excellent:
+  But--when you call it _argument_--
+      Of course you're only joking?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Stung by his cold and snaky eye,
+      I roused myself at length
+  To say "At least I do defy
+  The veriest sceptic to deny
+      That union is strength!"
+
+  "That's true enough," said he, "yet stay--"
+      I listened in all meekness--
+  "_Union_ is strength, I'm bound to say;
+  In fact, the thing's as clear as day;
+      But _onions_--are a weakness."
+
+
+CANTO VI.
+
+Dyscomfyture.
+
+  As one who strives a hill to climb,
+      Who never climbed before:
+  Who finds it, in a little time,
+  Grow every moment less sublime,
+      And votes the thing a bore:
+
+  Yet, having once begun to try,
+      Dares not desert his quest,
+  But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
+  On one small hut against the sky,
+      Wherein he hopes to rest:
+
+  Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
+      With many a puff and pant:
+  Who still, as rises the ascent,
+  In language grows more violent,
+      Although in breath more scant:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Who, climbing, gains at length the place
+      That crowns the upward track;
+  And, entering with unsteady pace,
+  Receives a buffet in the face
+      That lands him on his back:
+
+  And feels himself, like one in sleep,
+      Glide swiftly down again,
+  A helpless weight, from steep to steep,
+  Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,
+      He drops upon the plain--
+
+  So I, that had resolved to bring
+      Conviction to a ghost,
+  And found it quite a different thing
+  From any human arguing,
+      Yet dared not quit my post
+
+  But, keeping still the end in view
+      To which I hoped to come,
+  I strove to prove the matter true
+  By putting everything I knew
+      Into an axiom:
+
+  Commencing every single phrase
+      With 'therefore' or 'because,'
+  I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,
+  About the syllogistic maze,
+      Unconscious where I was.
+
+  Quoth he "That's regular clap-trap:
+      Don't bluster any more.
+  Now _do_ be cool and take a nap!
+  Such a ridiculous old chap
+      Was never seen before!
+
+  "You're like a man I used to meet,
+      Who got one day so furious
+  In arguing, the simple heat
+  Scorched both his slippers off his feet!"
+      I said "_That's very curious!_"
+
+[Illustration: "SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIPPERS OFF HIS FEET"]
+
+  "Well, it _is_ curious, I agree,
+      And sounds perhaps like fibs:
+  But still it's true as true can be--
+  As sure as your name's Tibbs," said he.
+      I said "My name's _not_ Tibbs."
+
+  "_Not_ Tibbs!" he cried--his tone became
+      A shade or two less hearty--
+  "Why, no," said I. "My proper name
+  Is Tibbets--" "Tibbets?" "Aye, the same."
+      "Why, then YOU'RE NOT THE PARTY!"
+
+  With that he struck the board a blow
+      That shivered half the glasses.
+  "Why couldn't you have told me so
+  Three quarters of an hour ago,
+      You prince of all the asses?
+
+  "To walk four miles through mud and rain,
+      To spend the night in smoking,
+  And then to find that it's in vain--
+  And I've to do it all again--
+      It's really _too_ provoking!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "Don't talk!" he cried, as I began
+      To mutter some excuse.
+  "Who can have patience with a man
+  That's got no more discretion than
+      An idiotic goose?
+
+  "To keep me waiting here, instead
+      Of telling me at once
+  That this was not the house!" he said.
+  "There, that'll do--be off to bed!
+      Don't gape like that, you dunce!"
+
+  "It's very fine to throw the blame
+      On _me_ in such a fashion!
+  Why didn't you enquire my name
+  The very minute that you came?"
+      I answered in a passion.
+
+  "Of course it worries you a bit
+      To come so far on foot--
+  But how was _I_ to blame for it?"
+  "Well, well!" said he. "I must admit
+      That isn't badly put.
+
+  "And certainly you've given me
+      The best of wine and victual--
+  Excuse my violence," said he,
+  "But accidents like this, you see,
+      They put one out a little.
+
+  "'Twas _my_ fault after all, I find--
+      Shake hands, old Turnip-top!"
+  The name was hardly to my mind,
+  But, as no doubt he meant it kind,
+      I let the matter drop.
+
+  "Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!
+      When I am gone, perhaps
+  They'll send you some inferior Sprite,
+  Who'll keep you in a constant fright
+      And spoil your soundest naps.
+
+  "Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick;
+      Then, if he leers and chuckles,
+  You just be handy with a stick
+  (Mind that it's pretty hard and thick)
+      And rap him on the knuckles!
+
+  "Then carelessly remark 'Old coon!
+      Perhaps you're not aware
+  That, if you don't behave, you'll soon
+  Be chuckling to another tune--
+      And so you'd best take care!'
+
+  "That's the right way to cure a Sprite
+      Of such-like goings-on--
+  But gracious me! It's getting light!
+  Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!"
+      A nod, and he was gone.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+CANTO VII.
+
+Sad Souvenaunce.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept?
+      Or can I have been drinking?"
+  But soon a gentler feeling crept
+  Upon me, and I sat and wept
+      An hour or so, like winking.
+
+  "No need for Bones to hurry so!"
+      I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt
+  If it was worth his while to go--
+  And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know,
+      To make such work about?
+
+  "If Tibbs is anything like me,
+      It's _possible_," I said,
+  "He won't be over-pleased to be
+  Dropped in upon at half-past three,
+      After he's snug in bed.
+
+  "And if Bones plagues him anyhow--
+      Squeaking and all the rest of it,
+  As he was doing here just now--
+  _I_ prophesy there'll be a row,
+      And Tibbs will have the best of it!"
+
+  Then, as my tears could never bring
+      The friendly Phantom back,
+  It seemed to me the proper thing
+  To mix another glass, and sing
+      The following Coronach.
+
+[Illustration: "AND TIBBS WILL HAVE THE BEST OF IT"]
+
+  '_And art thou gone, beloved Ghost?
+      Best of Familiars!
+  Nay then, farewell, my duckling roast,
+  Farewell, farewell, my tea and toast,
+      My meerschaum and cigars!_
+
+  '_The hues of life are dull and gray,
+      The sweets of life insipid,
+  When thou, my charmer, art away--
+  Old Brick, or rather, let me say,
+      Old Parallelepiped!_'
+
+  Instead of singing Verse the Third,
+      I ceased--abruptly, rather:
+  But, after such a splendid word,
+  I felt that it would be absurd
+      To try it any farther.
+
+  So with a yawn I went my way
+      To seek the welcome downy,
+  And slept, and dreamed till break of day
+  Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay
+      And Leprechaun and Brownie!
+
+  For years I've not been visited
+      By any kind of Sprite;
+  Yet still they echo in my head,
+  Those parting words, so kindly said,
+      "Old Turnip-top, good-night!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ECHOES.
+
+
+          Lady Clara Vere de Vere
+          Was eight years old, she said:
+  Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.
+
+          She took her little porringer:
+          Of me she shall not win renown:
+  For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her down.
+
+          "Sisters and brothers, little Maid?
+          There stands the Inspector at thy door:
+  Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four."
+
+          "Kind words are more than coronets,"
+          She said, and wondering looked at me:
+  "It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea."
+
+
+
+
+A SEA DIRGE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  There are certain things--as, a spider, a ghost,
+    The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three--
+  That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most
+        Is a thing they call the Sea.
+
+  Pour some salt water over the floor--
+    Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be:
+  Suppose it extended a mile or more,
+        _That's_ very like the Sea.
+
+  Beat a dog till it howls outright--
+    Cruel, but all very well for a spree:
+  Suppose that he did so day and night,
+        _That_ would be like the Sea.
+
+  I had a vision of nursery-maids;
+    Tens of thousands passed by me--
+  All leading children with wooden spades,
+        And this was by the Sea.
+
+  Who invented those spades of wood?
+    Who was it cut them out of the tree?
+  None, I think, but an idiot could--
+        Or one that loved the Sea.
+
+  It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float
+    With 'thoughts as boundless, and souls as free':
+  But, suppose you are very unwell in the boat,
+        How do you like the Sea?
+
+[Illustration: "AND THIS WAS BY THE SEA"]
+
+  There is an insect that people avoid
+    (Whence is derived the verb 'to flee').
+  Where have you been by it most annoyed?
+        In lodgings by the Sea.
+
+  If you like your coffee with sand for dregs,
+    A decided hint of salt in your tea,
+  And a fishy taste in the very eggs--
+        By all means choose the Sea.
+
+  And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,
+    You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
+  And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
+      Then--I recommend the Sea.
+
+  For _I_ have friends who dwell by the coast--
+    Pleasant friends they are to me!
+  It is when I am with them I wonder most
+        That any one likes the Sea.
+
+  They take me a walk: though tired and stiff,
+    To climb the heights I madly agree;
+  And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,
+        They kindly suggest the Sea.
+
+  I try the rocks, and I think it cool
+    That they laugh with such an excess of glee,
+  As I heavily slip into every pool
+        That skirts the cold cold Sea.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Y{e} Carpette Knyghte.
+
+
+  I have a horse--a ryghte goode horse--
+      Ne doe I envye those
+  Who scoure y{e} playne yn headye course
+      Tyll soddayne on theyre nose
+  They lyghte wyth unexpected force--
+      Yt ys--a horse of clothes.
+
+  I have a saddel--"Say'st thou soe?
+      Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?"
+  I sayde not that--I answere "Noe"--
+      Yt lacketh such, I woote:
+  Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!
+      Parte of y{e} fleecye brute.
+
+  I have a bytte--a ryghte good bytte--
+      As shall bee seene yn tyme.
+  Y{e} jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;
+      Yts use ys more sublyme.
+  Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt?
+      Yt ys--thys bytte of rhyme.
+
+[Illustration: "I HAVE A HORSE"]
+
+
+
+
+HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING.
+
+[In an age of imitation, I can claim no special merit for this slight
+attempt at doing what is known to be so easy. Any fairly practised writer,
+with the slightest ear for rhythm, could compose, for hours together, in
+the easy running metre of 'The Song of Hiawatha.' Having, then, distinctly
+stated that I challenge no attention in the following little poem to its
+merely verbal jingle, I must beg the candid reader to confine his
+criticism to its treatment of the subject.]
+
+
+  From his shoulder Hiawatha
+  Took the camera of rosewood,
+  Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
+  Neatly put it all together.
+  In its case it lay compactly,
+  Folded into nearly nothing;
+  But he opened out the hinges,
+  Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
+  Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
+  Like a complicated figure
+  In the Second Book of Euclid.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    This he perched upon a tripod--
+  Crouched beneath its dusky cover--
+  Stretched his hand, enforcing silence--
+  Said "Be motionless, I beg you!"
+  Mystic, awful was the process.
+    All the family in order
+  Sat before him for their pictures:
+  Each in turn, as he was taken,
+  Volunteered his own suggestions,
+  His ingenious suggestions.
+    First the Governor, the Father:
+  He suggested velvet curtains
+  Looped about a massy pillar;
+  And the corner of a table,
+  Of a rosewood dining-table.
+  He would hold a scroll of something,
+  Hold it firmly in his left-hand;
+  He would keep his right-hand buried
+  (Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;
+  He would contemplate the distance
+  With a look of pensive meaning,
+  As of ducks that die in tempests.
+    Grand, heroic was the notion:
+  Yet the picture failed entirely:
+  Failed, because he moved a little,
+  Moved, because he couldn't help it.
+    Next, his better half took courage;
+  She would have her picture taken.
+  _She_ came dressed beyond description,
+  Dressed in jewels and in satin
+  Far too gorgeous for an empress.
+
+[Illustration: "FIRST THE GOVERNOR, THE FATHER"]
+
+  Gracefully she sat down sideways,
+  With a simper scarcely human,
+  Holding in her hand a bouquet
+  Rather larger than a cabbage.
+  All the while that she was sitting,
+  Still the lady chattered, chattered,
+  Like a monkey in the forest.
+  "Am I sitting still?" she asked him.
+  "Is my face enough in profile?
+  Shall I hold the bouquet higher?
+  Will it come into the picture?"
+  And the picture failed completely.
+    Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab:
+  He suggested curves of beauty,
+  Curves pervading all his figure,
+  Which the eye might follow onward,
+  Till they centered in the breast-pin,
+  Centered in the golden breast-pin.
+  He had learnt it all from Ruskin
+  (Author of 'The Stones of Venice,'
+  'Seven Lamps of Architecture,'
+  'Modern Painters,' and some others);
+  And perhaps he had not fully
+  Understood his author's meaning;
+  But, whatever was the reason,
+  All was fruitless, as the picture
+  Ended in an utter failure.
+
+[Illustration: "NEXT THE SON, THE STUNNING-CANTAB"]
+
+    Next to him the eldest daughter:
+  She suggested very little,
+  Only asked if he would take her
+  With her look of 'passive beauty.'
+    Her idea of passive beauty
+  Was a squinting of the left-eye,
+  Was a drooping of the right-eye,
+  Was a smile that went up sideways
+  To the corner of the nostrils.
+    Hiawatha, when she asked him,
+  Took no notice of the question,
+  Looked as if he hadn't heard it;
+  But, when pointedly appealed to,
+  Smiled in his peculiar manner,
+  Coughed and said it 'didn't matter,'
+  Bit his lip and changed the subject.
+    Nor in this was he mistaken,
+  As the picture failed completely.
+    So in turn the other sisters.
+
+[Illustration: "NEXT TO HIM THE ELDEST DAUGHTER"]
+
+    Last, the youngest son was taken:
+  Very rough and thick his hair was,
+  Very round and red his face was,
+  Very dusty was his jacket,
+  Very fidgety his manner.
+  And his overbearing sisters
+  Called him names he disapproved of:
+  Called him Johnny, 'Daddy's Darling,'
+  Called him Jacky, 'Scrubby School-boy.'
+  And, so awful was the picture,
+  In comparison the others
+  Seemed, to one's bewildered fancy,
+  To have partially succeeded.
+    Finally my Hiawatha
+  Tumbled all the tribe together,
+  ('Grouped' is not the right expression),
+  And, as happy chance would have it,
+  Did at last obtain a picture
+  Where the faces all succeeded:
+  Each came out a perfect likeness.
+
+[Illustration: "LAST, THE YOUNGEST SON WAS TAKEN"]
+
+    Then they joined and all abused it,
+  Unrestrainedly abused it,
+  As the worst and ugliest picture
+  They could possibly have dreamed of.
+  Giving one such strange expressions--
+  Sullen, stupid, pert expressions.
+  Really any one would take us
+  (Any one that did not know us)
+  For the most unpleasant people!'
+  (Hiawatha seemed to think so,
+  Seemed to think it not unlikely).
+  All together rang their voices,
+  Angry, loud, discordant voices,
+  As of dogs that howl in concert,
+  As of cats that wail in chorus.
+    But my Hiawatha's patience,
+  His politeness and his patience,
+  Unaccountably had vanished,
+  And he left that happy party.
+  Neither did he leave them slowly,
+  With the calm deliberation,
+  The intense deliberation
+  Of a photographic artist:
+  But he left them in a hurry,
+  Left them in a mighty hurry,
+  Stating that he would not stand it,
+  Stating in emphatic language
+  What he'd be before he'd stand it.
+  Hurriedly he packed his boxes:
+  Hurriedly the porter trundled
+  On a barrow all his boxes:
+  Hurriedly he took his ticket:
+  Hurriedly the train received him:
+  Thus departed Hiawatha.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+MELANCHOLETTA.
+
+
+  With saddest music all day long
+    She soothed her secret sorrow:
+  At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong
+    Such cheerful words to borrow.
+  Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
+    I'll sing to thee to-morrow."
+
+  I thanked her, but I could not say
+    That I was glad to hear it:
+  I left the house at break of day,
+    And did not venture near it
+  Till time, I hoped, had worn away
+    Her grief, for nought could cheer it!
+
+[Illustration: "AT NIGHT SHE SIGHED"]
+
+  My dismal sister! Couldst thou know
+    The wretched home thou keepest!
+  Thy brother, drowned in daily woe,
+    Is thankful when thou sleepest;
+  For if I laugh, however low,
+    When thou'rt awake, thou weepest!
+
+  I took my sister t'other day
+    (Excuse the slang expression)
+  To Sadler's Wells to see the play,
+    In hopes the new impression
+  Might in her thoughts, from grave to gay
+    Effect some slight digression.
+
+  I asked three gay young dogs from town
+    To join us in our folly,
+  Whose mirth, I thought, might serve to drown
+    My sister's melancholy:
+  The lively Jones, the sportive Brown,
+    And Robinson the jolly.
+
+  The maid announced the meal in tones
+    That I myself had taught her,
+  Meant to allay my sister's moans
+    Like oil on troubled water:
+  I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones,
+    And begged him to escort her.
+
+  Vainly he strove, with ready wit,
+    To joke about the weather--
+  To ventilate the last '_on dit_'--
+    To quote the price of leather--
+  She groaned "Here I and Sorrow sit:
+    Let us lament together!"
+
+  I urged "You're wasting time, you know:
+    Delay will spoil the venison."
+  "My heart is wasted with my woe!
+    There is no rest--in Venice, on
+  The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted low
+    From Byron and from Tennyson.
+
+  I need not tell of soup and fish
+    In solemn silence swallowed,
+  The sobs that ushered in each dish,
+    And its departure followed,
+  Nor yet my suicidal wish
+    To _be_ the cheese I hollowed.
+
+  Some desperate attempts were made
+    To start a conversation;
+  "Madam," the sportive Brown essayed,
+    "Which kind of recreation,
+  Hunting or fishing, have you made
+    Your special occupation?"
+
+  Her lips curved downwards instantly,
+    As if of india-rubber.
+  "Hounds _in full cry_ I like," said she:
+    (Oh how I longed to snub her!)
+  "Of fish, a whale's the one for me,
+    _It is so full of blubber_!"
+
+  The night's performance was "King John."
+    "It's dull," she wept, "and so-so!"
+  A while I let her tears flow on,
+    She said they soothed her woe so!
+  At length the curtain rose upon
+    'Bombastes Furioso.'
+
+  In vain we roared; in vain we tried
+    To rouse her into laughter:
+  Her pensive glances wandered wide
+    From orchestra to rafter--
+  "_Tier upon tier!_" she said, and sighed;
+    And silence followed after.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A VALENTINE.
+
+[Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him
+when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away.]
+
+
+  And cannot pleasures, while they last,
+  Be actual unless, when past,
+  They leave us shuddering and aghast,
+          With anguish smarting?
+  And cannot friends be firm and fast,
+          And yet bear parting?
+
+  And must I then, at Friendship's call,
+  Calmly resign the little all
+  (Trifling, I grant, it is and small)
+          I have of gladness,
+  And lend my being to the thrall
+          Of gloom and sadness?
+
+  And think you that I should be dumb,
+  And full _dolorum omnium_,
+  Excepting when _you_ choose to come
+          And share my dinner?
+  At other times be sour and glum
+          And daily thinner?
+
+  Must he then only live to weep,
+  Who'd prove his friendship true and deep?
+  By day a lonely shadow creep,
+          At night-time languish,
+  Oft raising in his broken sleep
+          The moan of anguish?
+
+  The lover, if for certain days
+  His fair one be denied his gaze,
+  Sinks not in grief and wild amaze,
+          But, wiser wooer,
+  He spends the time in writing lays,
+          And posts them to her.
+
+  And if the verse flow free and fast,
+  Till even the poet is aghast,
+  A touching Valentine at last
+          The post shall carry,
+  When thirteen days are gone and past
+          Of February.
+
+  Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet,
+  In desert waste or crowded street,
+          Perhaps before this week shall fleet,
+  Perhaps to-morrow,
+  I trust to find _your_ heart the seat
+          Of wasting sorrow.
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE VOICES.
+
+
+The First Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  He trilled a carol fresh and free:
+  He laughed aloud for very glee:
+  There came a breeze from off the sea:
+
+  It passed athwart the glooming flat--
+  It fanned his forehead as he sat--
+  It lightly bore away his hat,
+
+  All to the feet of one who stood
+  Like maid enchanted in a wood,
+  Frowning as darkly as she could.
+
+  With huge umbrella, lank and brown,
+  Unerringly she pinned it down,
+  Right through the centre of the crown.
+
+  Then, with an aspect cold and grim,
+  Regardless of its battered rim,
+  She took it up and gave it him.
+
+  A while like one in dreams he stood,
+  Then faltered forth his gratitude
+  In words just short of being rude:
+
+  For it had lost its shape and shine,
+  And it had cost him four-and-nine,
+  And he was going out to dine.
+
+[Illustration: "UNERRINGLY SHE PINNED IT DOWN."]
+
+  "To dine!" she sneered in acid tone.
+  "To bend thy being to a bone
+  Clothed in a radiance not its own!"
+
+  The tear-drop trickled to his chin:
+  There was a meaning in her grin
+  That made him feel on fire within.
+
+  "Term it not 'radiance,'" said he:
+  "'Tis solid nutriment to me.
+  Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea."
+
+  And she "Yea so? Yet wherefore cease?
+  Let thy scant knowledge find increase.
+  Say 'Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.'"
+
+  He moaned: he knew not what to say.
+  The thought "That I could get away!"
+  Strove with the thought "But I must stay."
+
+  "To dine!" she shrieked in dragon-wrath.
+  "To swallow wines all foam and froth!
+  To simper at a table-cloth!
+
+  "Say, can thy noble spirit stoop
+  To join the gormandising troop
+  Who find a solace in the soup?
+
+  "Canst thou desire or pie or puff?
+  Thy well-bred manners were enough,
+  Without such gross material stuff."
+
+  "Yet well-bred men," he faintly said,
+  "Are not unwilling to be fed:
+  Nor are they well without the bread."
+
+  Her visage scorched him ere she spoke:
+  "There are," she said, "a kind of folk
+  Who have no horror of a joke.
+
+  "Such wretches live: they take their share
+  Of common earth and common air:
+  We come across them here and there:
+
+  "We grant them--there is no escape--
+  A sort of semi-human shape
+  Suggestive of the man-like Ape."
+
+  "In all such theories," said he,
+  "One fixed exception there must be.
+  That is, the Present Company."
+
+  Baffled, she gave a wolfish bark:
+  He, aiming blindly in the dark,
+  With random shaft had pierced the mark.
+
+  She felt that her defeat was plain,
+  Yet madly strove with might and main
+  To get the upper hand again.
+
+  Fixing her eyes upon the beach,
+  As though unconscious of his speech,
+  She said "Each gives to more than each."
+
+  He could not answer yea or nay:
+  He faltered "Gifts may pass away."
+  Yet knew not what he meant to say.
+
+  "If that be so," she straight replied,
+  "Each heart with each doth coincide.
+  What boots it? For the world is wide."
+
+[Illustration: "HE FALTERED 'GIFTS MAY PASS AWAY.'"]
+
+  "The world is but a Thought," said he:
+  "The vast unfathomable sea
+  Is but a Notion--unto me."
+
+  And darkly fell her answer dread
+  Upon his unresisting head,
+  Like half a hundredweight of lead.
+
+  "The Good and Great must ever shun
+  That reckless and abandoned one
+  Who stoops to perpetrate a pun.
+
+  "The man that smokes--that reads the _Times_--
+  That goes to Christmas Pantomimes--
+  Is capable of _any_ crimes!"
+
+  He felt it was his turn to speak,
+  And, with a shamed and crimson cheek,
+  Moaned "This is harder than Bezique!"
+
+  But when she asked him "Wherefore so?"
+  He felt his very whiskers glow,
+  And frankly owned "I do not know."
+
+[Illustration: "THIS IS HARDER THAN BEZIQUE!"]
+
+  While, like broad waves of golden grain,
+  Or sunlit hues on cloistered pane,
+  His colour came and went again.
+
+  Pitying his obvious distress,
+  Yet with a tinge of bitterness,
+  She said "The More exceeds the Less."
+
+  "A truth of such undoubted weight,"
+  He urged, "and so extreme in date,
+  It were superfluous to state."
+
+  Roused into sudden passion, she
+  In tone of cold malignity:
+  "To others, yea: but not to thee."
+
+  But when she saw him quail and quake,
+  And when he urged "For pity's sake!"
+  Once more in gentle tone she spake.
+
+  "Thought in the mind doth still abide:
+  That is by Intellect supplied,
+  And within that Idea doth hide:
+
+  "And he, that yearns the truth to know,
+  Still further inwardly may go,
+  And find Idea from Notion flow:
+
+  "And thus the chain, that sages sought,
+  Is to a glorious circle wrought,
+  For Notion hath its source in Thought."
+
+  So passed they on with even pace:
+  Yet gradually one might trace
+  A shadow growing on his face.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Second Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  They walked beside the wave-worn beach;
+  Her tongue was very apt to teach,
+  And now and then he did beseech
+
+  She would abate her dulcet tone,
+  Because the talk was all her own,
+  And he was dull as any drone.
+
+  She urged "No cheese is made of chalk":
+  And ceaseless flowed her dreary talk,
+  Tuned to the footfall of a walk.
+
+  Her voice was very full and rich,
+  And, when at length she asked him "Which?"
+  It mounted to its highest pitch.
+
+  He a bewildered answer gave,
+  Drowned in the sullen moaning wave,
+  Lost in the echoes of the cave.
+
+  He answered her he knew not what:
+  Like shaft from bow at random shot,
+  He spoke, but she regarded not.
+
+  She waited not for his reply,
+  But with a downward leaden eye
+  Went on as if he were not by:
+
+  Sound argument and grave defence,
+  Strange questions raised on "Why?" and "Whence?"
+  And wildly tangled evidence.
+
+  When he, with racked and whirling brain,
+  Feebly implored her to explain,
+  She simply said it all again.
+
+  Wrenched with an agony intense,
+  He spake, neglecting Sound and Sense,
+  And careless of all consequence:
+
+  "Mind--I believe--is Essence--Ent--
+  Abstract--that is--an Accident--
+  Which we--that is to say--I meant--"
+
+  When, with quick breath and cheeks all flushed,
+  At length his speech was somewhat hushed,
+  She looked at him, and he was crushed.
+
+  It needed not her calm reply:
+  She fixed him with a stony eye,
+  And he could neither fight nor fly,
+
+  While she dissected, word by word,
+  His speech, half guessed at and half heard,
+  As might a cat a little bird.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SPAKE, NEGLECTING SOUND AND SENSE."]
+
+  Then, having wholly overthrown
+  His views, and stripped them to the bone,
+  Proceeded to unfold her own.
+
+  "Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss
+  Of other thoughts no thought but this,
+  Harmonious dews of sober bliss?
+
+  "What boots it? Shall his fevered eye
+  Through towering nothingness descry
+  The grisly phantom hurry by?
+
+  "And hear dumb shrieks that fill the air;
+  See mouths that gape, and eyes that stare
+  And redden in the dusky glare?
+
+  "The meadows breathing amber light,
+  The darkness toppling from the height,
+  The feathery train of granite Night?
+
+  "Shall he, grown gray among his peers,
+  Through the thick curtain of his tears
+  Catch glimpses of his earlier years,
+
+[Illustration: "SHALL MAN BE MAN?"]
+
+  "And hear the sounds he knew of yore,
+  Old shufflings on the sanded floor,
+  Old knuckles tapping at the door?
+
+  "Yet still before him as he flies
+  One pallid form shall ever rise,
+  And, bodying forth in glassy eyes
+
+  "The vision of a vanished good,
+  Low peering through the tangled wood,
+  Shall freeze the current of his blood."
+
+  Still from each fact, with skill uncouth
+  And savage rapture, like a tooth
+  She wrenched some slow reluctant truth.
+
+  Till, like a silent water-mill,
+  When summer suns have dried the rill,
+  She reached a full stop, and was still.
+
+  Dead calm succeeded to the fuss,
+  As when the loaded omnibus
+  Has reached the railway terminus:
+
+  When, for the tumult of the street,
+  Is heard the engine's stifled beat,
+  The velvet tread of porters' feet.
+
+  With glance that ever sought the ground,
+  She moved her lips without a sound,
+  And every now and then she frowned.
+
+  He gazed upon the sleeping sea,
+  And joyed in its tranquillity,
+  And in that silence dead, but she
+
+  To muse a little space did seem,
+  Then, like the echo of a dream,
+  Harped back upon her threadbare theme.
+
+  Still an attentive ear he lent
+  But could not fathom what she meant:
+  She was not deep, nor eloquent.
+
+  He marked the ripple on the sand:
+  The even swaying of her hand
+  Was all that he could understand.
+
+  He saw in dreams a drawing-room,
+  Where thirteen wretches sat in gloom,
+  Waiting--he thought he knew for whom:
+
+  He saw them drooping here and there,
+  Each feebly huddled on a chair,
+  In attitudes of blank despair:
+
+  Oysters were not more mute than they,
+  For all their brains were pumped away,
+  And they had nothing more to say--
+
+  Save one, who groaned "Three hours are gone!"
+  Who shrieked "We'll wait no longer, John!
+  Tell them to set the dinner on!"
+
+  The vision passed: the ghosts were fled:
+  He saw once more that woman dread:
+  He heard once more the words she said.
+
+  He left her, and he turned aside:
+  He sat and watched the coming tide
+  Across the shores so newly dried.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SAT AND WATCHED THE COMING TIDE"]
+
+  He wondered at the waters clear,
+  The breeze that whispered in his ear,
+  The billows heaving far and near,
+
+  And why he had so long preferred
+  To hang upon her every word:
+  "In truth," he said, "it was absurd."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Third Voice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Not long this transport held its place:
+  Within a little moment's space
+  Quick tears were raining down his face.
+
+  His heart stood still, aghast with fear;
+  A wordless voice, nor far nor near,
+  He seemed to hear and not to hear.
+
+  "Tears kindle not the doubtful spark.
+  If so, why not? Of this remark
+  The bearings are profoundly dark."
+
+  "Her speech," he said, "hath caused this pain.
+  Easier I count it to explain
+  The jargon of the howling main,
+
+  "Or, stretched beside some babbling brook,
+  To con, with inexpressive look,
+  An unintelligible book."
+
+  Low spake the voice within his head,
+  In words imagined more than said,
+  Soundless as ghost's intended tread:
+
+  "If thou art duller than before,
+  Why quittedst thou the voice of lore?
+  Why not endure, expecting more?"
+
+  "Rather than that," he groaned aghast,
+  "I'd writhe in depths of cavern vast,
+  Some loathly vampire's rich repast."
+
+[Illustration: "HE GROANED AGHAST"]
+
+  "'Twere hard," it answered, "themes immense
+  To coop within the narrow fence
+  That rings _thy_ scant intelligence."
+
+  "Not so," he urged, "nor once alone:
+  But there was something in her tone
+  That chilled me to the very bone.
+
+  "Her style was anything but clear,
+  And most unpleasantly severe;
+  Her epithets were very queer.
+
+  "And yet, so grand were her replies,
+  I could not choose but deem her wise;
+  I did not dare to criticise;
+
+  "Nor did I leave her, till she went
+  So deep in tangled argument
+  That all my powers of thought were spent."
+
+  A little whisper inly slid,
+  "Yet truth is truth: you know you did."
+  A little wink beneath the lid.
+
+  And, sickened with excess of dread,
+  Prone to the dust he bent his head,
+  And lay like one three-quarters dead.
+
+  The whisper left him--like a breeze
+  Lost in the depths of leafy trees--
+  Left him by no means at his ease.
+
+  Once more he weltered in despair,
+  With hands, through denser-matted hair,
+  More tightly clenched than then they were.
+
+  When, bathed in Dawn of living red,
+  Majestic frowned the mountain head,
+  "Tell me my fault," was all he said.
+
+  When, at high Noon, the blazing sky
+  Scorched in his head each haggard eye,
+  Then keenest rose his weary cry.
+
+  And when at Eve the unpitying sun
+  Smiled grimly on the solemn fun,
+  "Alack," he sighed, "what _have_ I done?"
+
+[Illustration: "TORTURED, UNAIDED, AND ALONE"]
+
+  But saddest, darkest was the sight,
+  When the cold grasp of leaden Night
+  Dashed him to earth, and held him tight.
+
+  Tortured, unaided, and alone,
+  Thunders were silence to his groan,
+  Bagpipes sweet music to its tone:
+
+  "What? Ever thus, in dismal round,
+  Shall Pain and Mystery profound
+  Pursue me like a sleepless hound,
+
+  "With crimson-dashed and eager jaws,
+  Me, still in ignorance of the cause,
+  Unknowing what I broke of laws?"
+
+  The whisper to his ear did seem
+  Like echoed flow of silent stream,
+  Or shadow of forgotten dream,
+
+  The whisper trembling in the wind:
+  "Her fate with thine was intertwined,"
+  So spake it in his inner mind:
+
+[Illustration: "A SCARED DULLARD, GIBBERING LOW"]
+
+  "Each orbed on each a baleful star:
+  Each proved the other's blight and bar:
+  Each unto each were best, most far:
+
+  "Yea, each to each was worse than foe:
+  Thou, a scared dullard, gibbering low,
+  AND SHE, AN AVALANCHE OF WOE!"
+
+
+
+
+TEMA CON VARIAZIONI.
+
+[Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process of
+Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister-art Music? The
+Diluter gives us first a few notes of some well-known Air, then a dozen
+bars of his own, then a few more notes of the Air, and so on alternately:
+thus saving the listener, if not from all risk of recognising the melody
+at all, at least from the too-exciting transports which it might produce
+in a more concentrated form. The process is termed "setting" by Composers,
+and any one, that has ever experienced the emotion of being unexpectedly
+set down in a heap of mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this
+happy phrase.
+
+For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly over a morsel of
+supreme Venison--whose every fibre seems to murmur "Excelsior!"--yet
+swallows, ere returning to the toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of
+oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the perfect Connoisseur in
+Claret permits himself but one delicate sip, and then tosses off a pint or
+more of boarding-school beer: so also----
+
+
+  I never loved a dear Gazelle--
+    _Nor anything that cost me much:
+  High prices profit those who sell,
+    But why should I be fond of such?_
+
+  To glad me with his soft black eye
+    _My son comes trotting home from school;
+  He's had a fight, but can't tell why--
+    He always was a little fool!_
+
+  But, when he came to know me well,
+    _He kicked me out, her testy Sire:
+  And when I stained my hair, that Belle,
+    Might note the change, and thus admire_
+
+  And love me, it was sure to dye
+    _A muddy green or staring blue:
+  Whilst one might trace, with half an eye,
+    The still triumphant carrot through_.
+
+
+
+
+A GAME OF FIVES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
+  Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.
+
+  Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
+  Sitting down to lessons--no more time for tricks.
+
+  Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
+  Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!
+
+  Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
+  Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you _mean_!"
+
+[Illustration: "NOW TELL ME WHICH YOU _MEAN_!"]
+
+  Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
+  But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?
+
+  Five showy girls--but Thirty is an age
+  When girls may be _engaging_, but they somehow don't _engage_.
+
+  Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
+  So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Five _passe_ girls--Their age? Well, never mind!
+  We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
+  But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
+  The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!
+
+
+
+
+POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  "How shall I be a poet?
+    How shall I write in rhyme?
+  You told me once 'the very wish
+    Partook of the sublime.'
+  Then tell me how! Don't put me off
+    With your 'another time'!"
+
+  The old man smiled to see him,
+    To hear his sudden sally;
+  He liked the lad to speak his mind
+    Enthusiastically;
+  And thought "There's no hum-drum in him,
+    Nor any shilly-shally."
+
+  "And would you be a poet
+    Before you've been to school?
+  Ah, well! I hardly thought you
+    So absolute a fool.
+  First learn to be spasmodic--
+    A very simple rule.
+
+  "For first you write a sentence,
+    And then you chop it small;
+  Then mix the bits, and sort them out
+    Just as they chance to fall:
+  The order of the phrases makes
+    No difference at all.
+
+  "Then, if you'd be impressive,
+    Remember what I say,
+  That abstract qualities begin
+    With capitals alway:
+  The True, the Good, the Beautiful--
+    Those are the things that pay!
+
+  "Next, when you are describing
+    A shape, or sound, or tint;
+  Don't state the matter plainly,
+    But put it in a hint;
+  And learn to look at all things
+    With a sort of mental squint."
+
+  "For instance, if I wished, Sir,
+    Of mutton-pies to tell,
+  Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks
+    Pent in a wheaten cell'?"
+  "Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase
+    Would answer very well.
+
+  "Then fourthly, there are epithets
+    That suit with any word--
+  As well as Harvey's Reading Sauce
+    With fish, or flesh, or bird--
+  Of these, 'wild,' 'lonely,' 'weary,' 'strange,'
+    Are much to be preferred."
+
+  "And will it do, O will it do
+    To take them in a lump--
+  As 'the wild man went his weary way
+    To a strange and lonely pump'?"
+  "Nay, nay! You must not hastily
+    To such conclusions jump.
+
+  "Such epithets, like pepper,
+    Give zest to what you write;
+  And, if you strew them sparely,
+    They whet the appetite:
+  But if you lay them on too thick,
+    You spoil the matter quite!
+
+[Illustration: "THE WILD MAN WENT HIS WEARY WAY"]
+
+  "Last, as to the arrangement:
+    Your reader, you should show him,
+  Must take what information he
+    Can get, and look for no im-
+  mature disclosure of the drift
+    And purpose of your poem.
+
+  "Therefore, to test his patience--
+    How much he can endure--
+  Mention no places, names, or dates,
+    And evermore be sure
+  Throughout the poem to be found
+    Consistently obscure.
+
+  "First fix upon the limit
+    To which it shall extend:
+  Then fill it up with 'Padding'
+    (Beg some of any friend):
+  Your great SENSATION-STANZA
+    You place towards the end."
+
+  "And what is a Sensation,
+    Grandfather, tell me, pray?
+  I think I never heard the word
+    So used before to-day:
+  Be kind enough to mention one
+    '_Exempli gratia_.'"
+
+  And the old man, looking sadly
+    Across the garden-lawn,
+  Where here and there a dew-drop
+    Yet glittered in the dawn,
+  Said "Go to the Adelphi,
+    And see the 'Colleen Bawn.'
+
+  "The word is due to Boucicault--
+    The theory is his,
+  Where Life becomes a Spasm,
+    And History a Whiz:
+  If that is not Sensation,
+    I don't know what it is.
+
+  "Now try your hand, ere Fancy
+    Have lost its present glow--"
+  "And then," his grandson added,
+    "We'll publish it, you know:
+  Green cloth--gold-lettered at the back--
+    In duodecimo!"
+
+  Then proudly smiled that old man
+    To see the eager lad
+  Rush madly for his pen and ink
+    And for his blotting-pad--
+  But, when he thought of _publishing_,
+    His face grew stern and sad.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK,
+
+An Agony in Eight Fits.
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+If--and the thing is wildly possible--the charge of writing nonsense were
+ever brought against the author of this brief but instructive poem, it
+would be based, I feel convinced, on the line (in p. 144)
+
+  "Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:"
+
+In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I might) appeal
+indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such a
+deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral purpose of this
+poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so cautiously inculcated in
+it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History--I will take the more
+prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened.
+
+The Bellman, who was almost morbidly sensitive about appearances, used to
+have the bowsprit unshipped once or twice a week to be revarnished; and it
+more than once happened, when the time came for replacing it, that no one
+on board could remember which end of the ship it belonged to. They knew it
+was not of the slightest use to appeal to the Bellman about it--he would
+only refer to his Naval Code, and read out in pathetic tones Admiralty
+Instructions which none of them had ever been able to understand--so it
+generally ended in its being fastened on, anyhow, across the rudder. The
+helmsman[1] used to stand by with tears in his eyes: _he_ knew it was all
+wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of the Code, "_No one shall speak to the Man at
+the Helm_," had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words "_and
+the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one_." So remonstrance was
+impossible, and no steering could be done till the next varnishing day.
+During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed backwards.
+
+As this poem is to some extent connected with the lay of the Jabberwock,
+let me take this opportunity of answering a question that has often been
+asked me, how to pronounce "slithy toves." The "i" in "slithy" is long, as
+in "writhe"; and "toves" is pronounced so as to rhyme with "groves."
+Again, the first "o" in "borogoves" is pronounced like the "o" in
+"borrow." I have heard people try to give it the sound of the "o" in
+"worry." Such is Human Perversity.
+
+     [1] This office was usually undertaken by the Boots, who found in it
+     a refuge from the Baker's constant complaints about the insufficient
+     blacking of his three pair of boots.
+
+This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard words in that
+poem. Humpty-Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed into one word like a
+portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.
+
+For instance, take the two words "fuming" and "furious." Make up your mind
+that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which you will say
+first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts incline ever so
+little towards "fuming," you will say "fuming-furious"; if they turn, by
+even a hair's breadth towards "furious," you will say "furious-fuming";
+but if you have that rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind, you will
+say "frumious."
+
+Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words--
+
+  "Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!"
+
+Justice Shallow had felt certain that it was either William or Richard,
+but had not been able to settle which, so that he could not possibly say
+either name before the other, can it be doubted that, rather than die, he
+would have gasped out "Rilchiam!"
+
+
+Fit the First.
+
+_THE LANDING._
+
+  "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
+    As he landed his crew with care;
+  Supporting each man on the top of the tide
+    By a finger entwined in his hair.
+
+  "Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
+    That alone should encourage the crew.
+  Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
+    What I tell you three times is true."
+
+  The crew was complete: it included a Boots--
+    A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--
+  A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--
+    And a Broker, to value their goods.
+
+[Illustration: "SUPPORTING EACH MAN ON THE TOP OF THE TIDE"]
+
+  A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
+    Might perhaps have won more than his share--
+  But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
+    Had the whole of their cash in his care.
+
+  There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
+    Or would sit making lace in the bow:
+  And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
+    Though none of the sailors knew how.
+
+  There was one who was famed for the number of things
+    He forgot when he entered the ship:
+  His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
+    And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
+
+  He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
+    With his name painted clearly on each:
+  But since he omitted to mention the fact,
+    They were all left behind on the beach.
+
+  The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
+    He had seven coats on when he came,
+  With three pair of boots--but the worst of it was
+    He had wholly forgotten his name.
+
+[Illustration: "HE HAD WHOLLY FORGOTTEN HIS NAME"]
+
+  He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
+    Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
+  To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
+    But especially "Thing-um-a jig!"
+
+  While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
+    He had different names from these:
+  His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends,"
+    And his enemies "Toasted-cheese."
+
+  "His form is ungainly--his intellect small--"
+    (So the Bellman would often remark)--
+  "But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,
+    Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."
+
+  He would joke with hyaenas, returning their stare
+    With an impudent wag of the head:
+  And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,
+    "Just to keep up its spirits," he said.
+
+  He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late--
+    And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad--
+  He could only bake Bride-cake--for which, I may state,
+    No materials were to be had.
+
+  The last of the crew needs especial remark,
+    Though he looked an incredible dunce:
+  He had just one idea--but, that one being "Snark,"
+    The good Bellman engaged him at once.
+
+  He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
+    When the ship had been sailing a week,
+  He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,
+    And was almost too frightened to speak:
+
+  But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
+    There was only one Beaver on board;
+  And that was a tame one he had of his own,
+    Whose death would be deeply deplored.
+
+  The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
+    Protested, with tears in its eyes,
+  That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
+    Could atone for that dismal surprise!
+
+  It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
+    Conveyed in a separate ship:
+  But the Bellman declared that would never agree
+    With the plans he had made for the trip:
+
+[Illustration: "THE BEAVER KEPT LOOKING THE OPPOSITE WAY"]
+
+  Navigation was always a difficult art,
+    Though with only one ship and one bell:
+  And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
+    Undertaking another as well.
+
+  The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure
+    A second-hand dagger-proof coat--
+  So the Baker advised it--and next, to insure
+    Its life in some Office of note:
+
+  This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire
+    (On moderate terms), or for sale,
+  Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
+    And one Against Damage From Hail.
+
+  Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
+    Whenever the Butcher was by,
+  The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
+    And appeared unaccountably shy.
+
+
+Fit the Second.
+
+_THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH._
+
+  The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies--
+    Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
+  Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
+    The moment one looked in his face!
+
+  He had bought a large map representing the sea,
+    Without the least vestige of land:
+  And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
+    A map they could all understand.
+
+  "What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
+    Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?"
+  So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
+    "They are merely conventional signs!
+
+[Illustration: OCEAN-CHART.]
+
+  "Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
+    But we've got our brave Captain to thank"
+  (So the crew would protest) "that he's bought _us_ the best--
+    A perfect and absolute blank!"
+
+  This was charming, no doubt: but they shortly found out
+    That the Captain they trusted so well
+  Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
+    And that was to tingle his bell.
+
+  He was thoughtful and grave--but the orders he gave
+    Were enough to bewilder a crew.
+  When he cried "Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!"
+    What on earth was the helmsman to do?
+
+  Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
+    A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
+  That frequently happens in tropical climes,
+    When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked."
+
+  But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
+    And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
+  Said he _had_ hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
+    That the ship would _not_ travel due West!
+
+  But the danger was past--they had landed at last,
+    With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
+  Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view
+    Which consisted of chasms and crags.
+
+  The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
+    And repeated in musical tone
+  Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe--
+    But the crew would do nothing but groan.
+
+  He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
+    And bade them sit down on the beach:
+  And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
+    As he stood and delivered his speech.
+
+  "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!
+    (They were all of them fond of quotations:
+  So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers
+    While he served out additional rations).
+
+  "We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
+    (Four weeks to the month you may mark),
+  But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
+    Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
+
+  "We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
+    (Seven days to the week I allow),
+  But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
+    We have never beheld till now!
+
+  "Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
+    The five unmistakable marks
+  By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
+    The warranted genuine Snarks.
+
+  "Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
+    Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
+  Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
+    With a flavour of Will-o-the wisp.
+
+  "Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
+    That it carries too far, when I say
+  That it frequently breakfasts at five o'clock tea,
+    And dines on the following day.
+
+  "The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
+    Should you happen to venture on one,
+  It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
+    And it always looks grave at a pun.
+
+  "The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
+    Which it constantly carries about,
+  And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes--
+    A sentiment open to doubt.
+
+  "The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
+    To describe each particular batch:
+  Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
+    From those that have whiskers, and scratch.
+
+  "For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
+    Yet I feel it my duty to say
+  Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
+    For the Baker had fainted away.
+
+
+Fit the Third.
+
+_THE BAKER'S TALE._
+
+  They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice--
+    They roused him with mustard and cress--
+  They roused him with jam and judicious advice--
+    They set him conundrums to guess.
+
+  When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
+    His sad story he offered to tell;
+  And the Bellman cried "Silence! Not even a shriek!"
+    And excitedly tingled his bell.
+
+  There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream;
+    Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
+  As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
+    In an antediluvian tone.
+
+  "My father and mother were honest, though poor--"
+    "Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste.
+  "If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark--
+    We have hardly a minute to waste!"
+
+  "I skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,
+    "And proceed without further remark
+  To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
+    To help you in hunting the Snark.
+
+  "A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
+    Remarked, when I bade him farewell--"
+  "Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,
+    As he angrily tingled his bell.
+
+  "He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,
+    "'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
+  Fetch it home by all means--you may serve it with greens
+    And it's handy for striking a light.
+
+  "'You may seek it with thimbles--and seek it with care;
+    You may hunt it with forks and hope;
+  You may threaten its life with a railway-share;
+    You may charm it with smiles and soap--'"
+
+  ("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold
+    In a hasty parenthesis cried,
+  "That's exactly the way I have always been told
+    That the capture of Snarks should be tried!")
+
+  "'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
+    If your Snark be a Boojum! For then
+  You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
+    And never be met with again!'
+
+  "It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
+    When I think of my uncle's last words:
+  And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
+    Brimming over with quivering curds!
+
+  "It is this, it is this--" "We have had that before!"
+    The Bellman indignantly said.
+  And the Baker replied "Let me say it once more.
+    It is this, it is this that I dread!
+
+  "I engage with the Snark--every night after dark--
+    In a dreamy delirious fight:
+  I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
+    And I use it for striking a light:
+
+[Illustration: "BUT OH, BEAMISH NEPHEW, BEWARE OF THE DAY"]
+
+  "But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
+    In a moment (of this I am sure),
+  I shall softly and suddenly vanish away--
+    And the notion I cannot endure!"
+
+
+Fit the Fourth.
+
+_THE HUNTING._
+
+  The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
+    "If only you'd spoken before!
+  It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
+    With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!
+
+  "We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
+    If you never were met with again--
+  But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
+    You might have suggested it then?
+
+  "It's excessively awkward to mention it now--
+    As I think I've already remarked."
+  And the man they called "Hi!" replied, with a sigh,
+    "I informed you the day we embarked.
+
+  "You may charge me with murder--or want of sense--
+    (We are all of us weak at times):
+  But the slightest approach to a false pretence
+    Was never among my crimes!
+
+  "I said it in Hebrew--I said it in Dutch--
+    I said it in German and Greek:
+  But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
+    That English is what you speak!"
+
+  "'Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face
+    Had grown longer at every word:
+  "But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,
+    More debate would be simply absurd.
+
+  "The rest of my speech" (he explained to his men)
+    "You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it.
+  But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
+    'Tis your glorious duty to seek it!
+
+  "To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
+    To pursue it with forks and hope;
+  To threaten its life with a railway-share;
+    To charm it with smiles and soap!
+
+[Illustration: "TO PURSUE IT WITH FORKS AND HOPE."]
+
+  "For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't
+    Be caught in a commonplace way.
+  Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:
+    Not a chance must be wasted to-day!
+
+  "For England expects--I forbear to proceed:
+    'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
+  And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need
+    To rig yourselves out for the fight."
+
+  Then the Banker endorsed a blank cheque (which he crossed),
+    And changed his loose silver for notes:
+  The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
+    And shook the dust out of his coats:
+
+  The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade--
+    Each working the grindstone in turn:
+  But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
+    No interest in the concern:
+
+  Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
+    And vainly proceeded to cite
+  A number of cases, in which making laces
+    Had been proved an infringement of right.
+
+  The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
+    A novel arrangement of bows:
+  While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
+    Was chalking the tip of his nose.
+
+  But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
+    With yellow kid gloves and a ruff--
+  Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
+    Which the Bellman declared was all "stuff."
+
+  "Introduce me, now there's a good fellow," he said,
+    "If we happen to meet it together!"
+  And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
+    Said "That must depend on the weather."
+
+  The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
+    At seeing the Butcher so shy:
+  And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
+    Made an effort to wink with one eye.
+
+  "Be a man!" cried the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
+    The Butcher beginning to sob.
+  "Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
+    We shall need all our strength for the job!"
+
+
+Fit the Fifth.
+
+_THE BEAVER'S LESSON._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
+    For making a separate sally;
+  And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
+    A dismal and desolate valley.
+
+  But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
+    It had chosen the very same place:
+  Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
+    The disgust that appeared in his face.
+
+  Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark"
+    And the glorious work of the day;
+  And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
+    That the other was going that way.
+
+  But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
+    And the evening got darker and colder,
+  Till (merely from nervousness, not from good will)
+    They marched along shoulder to shoulder.
+
+  Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
+    And they knew that some danger was near:
+  The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
+    And even the Butcher felt queer.
+
+  He thought of his childhood, left far far behind--
+    That blissful and innocent state--
+  The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
+    A pencil that squeaks on a slate!
+
+  "'Tis the voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried.
+    (This man, that they used to call "Dunce.")
+  "As the Bellman would tell you," he added with pride,
+    "I have uttered that sentiment once."
+
+  "'Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
+    You will find I have told it you twice.
+  'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
+    If only I've stated it thrice."
+
+  The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
+    Attending to every word:
+  But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
+    When the third repetition occurred.
+
+  It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
+    It had somehow contrived to lose count,
+  And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
+    By reckoning up the amount.
+
+  "Two added to one--if that could but be done,"
+    It said, "with one's fingers and thumbs!"
+  Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
+    It had taken no pains with its sums.
+
+  "The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.
+    The thing must be done, I am sure.
+  The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,
+    The best there is time to procure."
+
+  The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens,
+    And ink in unfailing supplies:
+  While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
+    And watched them with wondering eyes.
+
+  So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
+    As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
+  And explained all the while in a popular style
+    Which the Beaver could well understand.
+
+  "Taking Three as the subject to reason about--
+    A convenient number to state--
+  We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
+    By One Thousand diminished by Eight.
+
+  "The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
+    By Nine-Hundred-and-Ninety-and-Two:
+  Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
+    Exactly and perfectly true.
+
+  "The method employed I would gladly explain,
+    While I have it so clear in my head,
+  If I had but the time and you had but the brain--
+    But much yet remains to be said.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BEAVER BROUGHT PAPER, PORTFOLIO, PENS"]
+
+  "In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been
+    Enveloped in absolute mystery,
+  And without extra charge I will give you at large
+    A Lesson in Natural History."
+
+  In his genial way he proceeded to say
+    (Forgetting all laws of propriety,
+  And that giving instruction, without introduction,
+    Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),
+
+  "As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
+    Since it lives in perpetual passion:
+  Its taste in costume is entirely absurd--
+    It is ages ahead of the fashion:
+
+  "But it knows any friend it has met once before:
+    It never will look at a bribe:
+  And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,
+    And collects--though it does not subscribe.
+
+  "Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
+    Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
+  (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
+    And some, in mahogany kegs:)
+
+  "You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
+    You condense it with locusts and tape:
+  Still keeping one principal object in view--
+    To preserve its symmetrical shape."
+
+  The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
+    But he felt that the Lesson must end,
+  And he wept with delight in attempting to say
+    He considered the Beaver his friend:
+
+  While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks
+    More eloquent even than tears,
+  It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
+    Would have taught it in seventy years.
+
+  They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
+    (For a moment) with noble emotion,
+  Said "This amply repays all the wearisome days
+    We have spent on the billowy ocean!"
+
+  Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
+    Have seldom if ever been known;
+  In winter or summer, 'twas always the same--
+    You could never meet either alone.
+
+  And when quarrels arose--as one frequently finds
+    Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour--
+  The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
+    And cemented their friendship for ever!
+
+
+Fit the Sixth.
+
+_THE BARRISTER'S DREAM._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
+    That the Beaver's lace-making was wrong,
+  Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
+    That his fancy had dwelt on so long.
+
+  He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
+    Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
+  Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
+    On the charge of deserting its sty.
+
+[Illustration: "'YOU MUST KNOW--' SAID THE JUDGE: BUT THE SNARK EXCLAIMED
+'FUDGE!'"]
+
+  The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
+    That the sty was deserted when found:
+  And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
+    In a soft under-current of sound.
+
+  The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
+    And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
+  And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
+    What the pig was supposed to have done.
+
+  The Jury had each formed a different view
+    (Long before the indictment was read),
+  And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
+    One word that the others had said.
+
+  "You must know--" said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed "Fudge!
+    That statute is obsolete quite!
+  Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
+    On an ancient manorial right.
+
+  "In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
+    To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
+  While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
+    If you grant the plea 'never indebted.'
+
+  "The fact of Desertion I will not dispute:
+    But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
+  (So far as relates to the costs of this suit)
+    By the Alibi which has been proved.
+
+  "My poor client's fate now depends on your votes."
+    Here the speaker sat down in his place,
+  And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
+    And briefly to sum up the case.
+
+  But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
+    So the Snark undertook it instead,
+  And summed it so well that it came to far more
+    Than the Witnesses ever had said!
+
+  When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
+    As the word was so puzzling to spell;
+  But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn't mind
+    Undertaking that duty as well.
+
+  So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
+    It was spent with the toils of the day:
+  When it said the word "GUILTY!" the Jury all groaned
+    And some of them fainted away.
+
+  Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
+    Too nervous to utter a word:
+  When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
+    And the fall of a pin might be heard.
+
+  "Transportation for life" was the sentence it gave,
+    "And _then_ to be fined forty pound."
+  The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
+    That the phrase was not legally sound.
+
+  But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
+    When the jailer informed them, with tears,
+  Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,
+    As the pig had been dead for some years.
+
+  The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:
+    But the Snark, though a little aghast,
+  As the lawyer to whom the defence was intrusted,
+    Went bellowing on to the last.
+
+  Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
+    To grow every moment more clear:
+  Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
+    Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.
+
+
+Fit the Seventh.
+
+_THE BANKER'S FATE._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
+    It was matter for general remark,
+  Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
+    In his zeal to discover the Snark.
+
+  But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
+    A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
+  And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
+    For he knew it was useless to fly.
+
+  He offered large discount--he offered a cheque
+    (Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
+  But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
+    And grabbed at the Banker again.
+
+  Without rest or pause--while those frumious jaws
+    Went savagely snapping around--
+  He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
+    Till fainting he fell to the ground.
+
+  The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
+    Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
+  And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
+    And solemnly tolled on his bell.
+
+  He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
+    The least likeness to what he had been:
+  While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white--
+    A wonderful thing to be seen!
+
+[Illustration: "SO GREAT WAS HIS FRIGHT THAT HIS WAISTCOAT TURNED WHITE."]
+
+  To the horror of all who were present that day,
+    He uprose in full evening dress,
+  And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
+    What his tongue could no longer express.
+
+  Down he sank in a chair--ran his hands through his hair--
+    And chanted in mimsiest tones
+  Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
+    While he rattled a couple of bones.
+
+  "Leave him here to his fate--it is getting so late!"
+    The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
+  "We have lost half the day. Any further delay,
+    And we sha'n't catch a Snark before night!"
+
+
+Fit the Eighth.
+
+_THE VANISHING._
+
+  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
+    They pursued it with forks and hope;
+  They threatened its life with a railway-share;
+    They charmed it with smiles and soap.
+
+  They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
+    And the Beaver, excited at last,
+  Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
+    For the daylight was nearly past.
+
+  "There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said.
+    "He is shouting like mad, only hark!
+  He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
+    He has certainly found a Snark!"
+
+  They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
+    "He was always a desperate wag!"
+  They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed--
+    On the top of a neighbouring crag,
+
+  Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
+    In the next, that wild figure they saw
+  (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
+    While they waited and listened in awe.
+
+  "It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
+    And seemed almost too good to be true.
+  Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
+    Then the ominous words "It's a Boo--"
+
+  Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
+    A weary and wandering sigh
+  That sounded like "--jum!" but the others declare
+    It was only a breeze that went by.
+
+[Illustration: "THEN, SILENCE"]
+
+  They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
+    Not a button, or feather, or mark,
+  By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
+    Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
+
+  In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
+    In the midst of his laughter and glee,
+  He had softly and suddenly vanished away--
+    For the Snark _was_ a Boojum, you see.
+
+
+
+
+SIZE AND TEARS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  When on the sandy shore I sit,
+    Beside the salt sea-wave,
+  And fall into a weeping fit
+    Because I dare not shave--
+  A little whisper at my ear
+  Enquires the reason of my fear.
+
+  I answer "If that ruffian Jones
+    Should recognise me here,
+  He'd bellow out my name in tones
+    Offensive to the ear:
+  He chaffs me so on being stout
+  (A thing that always puts me out)."
+
+  Ah me! I see him on the cliff!
+    Farewell, farewell to hope,
+  If he should look this way, and if
+    He's got his telescope!
+  To whatsoever place I flee,
+  My odious rival follows me!
+
+  For every night, and everywhere,
+    I meet him out at dinner;
+  And when I've found some charming fair,
+    And vowed to die or win her,
+  The wretch (he's thin and I am stout)
+  Is sure to come and cut me out!
+
+[Illustration: "HE'S THIN AND I AM STOUT"]
+
+  The girls (just like them!) all agree
+    To praise J. Jones, Esquire:
+  I ask them what on earth they see
+    About him to admire?
+  They cry "He is so sleek and slim,
+  It's quite a treat to look at him!"
+
+  They vanish in tobacco smoke,
+    Those visionary maids--
+  I feel a sharp and sudden poke
+    Between the shoulder-blades--
+  "Why, Brown, my boy! You're growing stout!"
+  (I told you he would find me out!)
+
+  "My growth is not _your_ business, Sir!"
+    "No more it is, my boy!
+  But if it's _yours_, as I infer,
+    Why, Brown, I give you joy!
+  A man, whose business prospers so,
+  Is just the sort of man to know!
+
+  "It's hardly safe, though, talking here--
+    I'd best get out of reach:
+  For such a weight as yours, I fear,
+    Must shortly sink the beach!"--
+
+  Insult me thus because I'm stout!
+  I vow I'll go and call him out!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN.
+
+
+            Ay, 'twas here, on this spot,
+              In that summer of yore,
+            Atalanta did not
+              Vote my presence a bore,
+  Nor reply to my tenderest talk "She had heard all that nonsense before."
+
+            She'd the brooch I had bought
+              And the necklace and sash on,
+            And her heart, as I thought,
+              Was alive to my passion;
+  And she'd done up her hair in the style that the Empress had brought
+    into fashion.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+            I had been to the play
+              With my pearl of a Peri--
+            But, for all I could say,
+              She declared she was weary,
+  That "the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn't abide that
+    Dundreary."
+
+            Then I thought "'Tis for me
+              That she whines and she whimpers!"
+            And it soothed me to see
+              Those sensational simpers,
+  And I said "This is scrumptious!"--a phrase I had learned from the
+    Devonshire shrimpers.
+
+            And I vowed "'Twill be said
+              I'm a fortunate fellow,
+            When the breakfast is spread,
+              When the topers are mellow,
+  When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce orange-blossoms
+    are yellow!"
+
+            O that languishing yawn!
+              O those eloquent eyes!
+            I was drunk with the dawn
+              Of a splendid surmise--
+  I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by a tempest of sighs.
+
+            And I whispered "'Tis time!
+              Is not Love at its deepest?
+            Shall we squander Life's prime,
+              While thou waitest and weepest?
+  Let us settle it, License or Banns?--though undoubtedly Banns are the
+    cheapest."
+
+            "Ah, my Hero," said I,
+              "Let me be thy Leander!"
+            But I lost her reply--
+              Something ending with "gander"--
+  For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could quite understand
+    her.
+
+
+
+
+THE LANG COORTIN'.
+
+
+  The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
+      Wi' her doggie at her feet;
+  Thorough the lattice she can spy
+      The passers in the street.
+
+  "There's one that standeth at the door,
+      And tirleth at the pin:
+  Now speak and say, my popinjay,
+      If I sall let him in."
+
+  Then up and spake the popinjay
+      That flew abune her head:
+  "Gae let him in that tirls the pin:
+      He cometh thee to wed."
+
+  O when he cam' the parlour in,
+      A woeful man was he!
+  "And dinna ye ken your lover agen,
+      Sae well that loveth thee?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir,
+      That have been sae lang away?
+  And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir?
+      Ye never telled me sae."
+
+  Said--"Ladye dear," and the salt, salt tear
+      Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek,
+  "I have sent thee tokens of my love
+      This many and many a week.
+
+  "O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,
+      The rings o' the gowd sae fine?
+  I wot that I have sent to thee
+      Four score, four score and nine."
+
+  "They cam' to me," said that fair ladye.
+      "Wow, they were flimsie things!"
+  Said--"that chain o' gowd, my doggie to howd,
+      It is made o' thae self-same rings."
+
+  "And didna ye get the locks, the locks,
+      The locks o' my ain black hair,
+  Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,
+      Whilk I sent by the carrier?"
+
+  "They cam' to me," said that fair ladye;
+      "And I prithee send nae mair!"
+  Said--"that cushion sae red, for my doggie's head,
+      It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair."
+
+  "And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,
+      Tied wi' a silken string,
+  Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,
+      A message of love to bring?"
+
+  "It cam' to me frae the far countrie
+      Wi' its silken string and a';
+  But it wasna prepaid," said that high-born maid,
+      "Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'."
+
+  "O ever alack that ye sent it back,
+      It was written sae clerkly and well!
+  Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,
+      I must even say it mysel'."
+
+  Then up and spake the popinjay,
+      Sae wisely counselled he.
+  "Now say it in the proper way:
+      Gae doon upon thy knee!"
+
+  The lover he turned baith red and pale,
+      Went doon upon his knee:
+  "O Ladye, hear the waesome tale
+      That must be told to thee!
+
+  "For five lang years, and five lang years,
+      I coorted thee by looks;
+  By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,
+      As I had read in books.
+
+  "For ten lang years, O weary hours!
+      I coorted thee by signs;
+  By sending game, by sending flowers,
+      By sending Valentines.
+
+  "For five lang years, and five lang years,
+      I have dwelt in the far countrie,
+  Till that thy mind should be inclined
+      Mair tenderly to me.
+
+  "Now thirty years are gane and past,
+      I am come frae a foreign land:
+  I am come to tell thee my love at last--
+      O Ladye, gie me thy hand!"
+
+  The ladye she turned not pale nor red,
+      But she smiled a pitiful smile:
+  "Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man," she said
+      "Takes a lang and a weary while!"
+
+  And out and laughed the popinjay,
+      A laugh of bitter scorn:
+  "A coortin' done in sic' a way,
+      It ought not to be borne!"
+
+[Illustration: "AND OUT AND LAUGHED THE POPINJAY"]
+
+  Wi' that the doggie barked aloud,
+      And up and doon he ran,
+  And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd,
+      All for to bite the man.
+
+  "O hush thee, gentle popinjay!
+      O hush thee, doggie dear!
+  There is a word I fain wad say,
+      It needeth he should hear!"
+
+  Aye louder screamed that ladye fair
+      To drown her doggie's bark:
+  Ever the lover shouted mair
+      To make that ladye hark:
+
+  Shrill and more shrill the popinjay
+      Upraised his angry squall:
+  I trow the doggie's voice that day
+      Was louder than them all!
+
+  The serving-men and serving-maids
+      Sat by the kitchen fire:
+  They heard sic' a din the parlour within
+      As made them much admire.
+
+[Illustration: "O HUSH THEE, GENTLE POPINJAY!"]
+
+  Out spake the boy in buttons
+      (I ween he wasna thin),
+  "Now wha will tae the parlour gae,
+      And stay this deadlie din?"
+
+  And they have taen a kerchief,
+      Casted their kevils in,
+  For wha should tae the parlour gae,
+      And stay that deadlie din.
+
+  When on that boy the kevil fell
+      To stay the fearsome noise,
+  "Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide,
+      Thou prince of button-boys!"
+
+  Syne, he has taen a supple cane
+      To swinge that dog sae fat:
+  The doggie yowled, the doggie howled
+      The louder aye for that.
+
+  Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane--
+      The doggie ceased his noise,
+  And followed doon the kitchen stair
+      That prince of button-boys!
+
+[Illustration: "THE DOGGIE CEASED HIS NOISE"]
+
+  Then sadly spake that ladye fair,
+      Wi' a frown upon her brow:
+  "O dearer to me is my sma' doggie
+      Than a dozen sic' as thou!
+
+  "Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:
+      Nae use at all to fret:
+  Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years,
+      Ye may bide a wee langer yet!"
+
+  Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor
+      And tirled at the pin:
+  Sadly went he through the door
+      Where sadly he cam' in.
+
+  "O gin I had a popinjay
+      To fly abune my head,
+  To tell me what I ought to say,
+      I had by this been wed.
+
+  "O gin I find anither ladye,"
+      He said wi' sighs and tears,
+  "I wot my coortin' sall not be
+      Anither thirty years:
+
+  "For gin I find a ladye gay,
+      Exactly to my taste,
+  I'll pop the question, aye or nay,
+      In twenty years at maist."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+FOUR RIDDLES.
+
+[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades.
+
+No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had gone to a
+ball at an Oxford Commemoration--and also as a specimen of what might be
+done by making the Double Acrostic _a connected poem_ instead of what it
+has hitherto been, a string of disjointed stanzas, on every conceivable
+subject, and about as interesting to read straight through as a page of a
+Cyclopaedia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each
+subsequent stanza one of the cross "lights."
+
+No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the play of
+"Hamlet." In this case the first stanza describes the two main words.
+
+No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr.
+Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and Galatea." The three stanzas respectively
+describe "My First," "My Second," and "My Whole."]
+
+
+I.
+
+  There was an ancient City, stricken down
+    With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
+  They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
+              And danced the night away.
+
+  I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
+    They pointed to a building gray and tall,
+  And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad,
+              And then you'll see it all."
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Yet what are all such gaieties to me
+    Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?
+  x{2} + 7x + 53
+              = 11/3.
+
+  But something whispered "It will soon be done:
+    Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
+  Endure with patience the distasteful fun
+              For just a little while!"
+
+  A change came o'er my Vision--it was night:
+    We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:
+  The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:
+              The chariots whirled along.
+
+  Within a marble hall a river ran--
+    A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:
+  And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,
+              Yet swallowed down her wrath;
+
+  And here one offered to a thirsty fair
+    (His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful)
+  Some frozen viand (there were many there),
+              A tooth-ache in each spoonful.
+
+  There comes a happy pause, for human strength
+    Will not endure to dance without cessation;
+  And every one must reach the point at length
+              Of absolute prostration.
+
+  At such a moment ladies learn to give,
+    To partners who would urge them over-much,
+  A flat and yet decided negative--
+              Photographers love such.
+
+  There comes a welcome summons--hope revives,
+    And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken:
+  Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives
+              Dispense the tongue and chicken.
+
+  Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again:
+    And all is tangled talk and mazy motion--
+  Much like a waving field of golden grain,
+              Or a tempestuous ocean.
+
+  And thus they give the time, that Nature meant
+    For peaceful sleep and meditative snores,
+  To ceaseless din and mindless merriment
+              And waste of shoes and floors.
+
+  And One (we name him not) that flies the flowers,
+    That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads,
+  They doom to pass in solitude the hours,
+              Writing acrostic-ballads.
+
+  How late it grows! The hour is surely past
+    That should have warned us with its double-knock?
+  The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last--
+              "Oh, Uncle, what's o'clock?"
+
+  The Uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks.
+    It _may_ mean much, but how is one to know?
+  He opes his mouth--yet out of it, methinks,
+              No words of wisdom flow.
+
+
+II.
+
+  Empress of Art, for thee I twine
+    This wreath with all too slender skill.
+  Forgive my Muse each halting line,
+    And for the deed accept the will!
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,
+    Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love?
+  Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,
+    By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?
+
+  And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,
+    Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:
+  And these wild words of fury but proclaim
+    A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!
+
+  But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown,
+    Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!
+  "Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan,
+    "Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!"
+
+  A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire
+    Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile!
+  And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar?
+    And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile?
+
+  Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways
+    And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers:
+  In holy silence wait the appointed days,
+    And weep away the leaden-footed hours.
+
+
+III.
+
+  The air is bright with hues of light
+    And rich with laughter and with singing:
+  Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,
+    And banners wave, and bells are ringing:
+  But silence falls with fading day,
+  And there's an end to mirth and play.
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+  Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!
+    The kettle sings, the firelight dances.
+  Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught
+    That fills the soul with golden fancies!
+  For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,
+  And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+  O fair cold face! O form of grace,
+    For human passion madly yearning!
+  O weary air of dumb despair,
+    From marble won, to marble turning!
+  "Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
+  "We cannot let thee pass away!"
+            Ah, well-a-day!
+
+
+IV.
+
+  My First is singular at best:
+      More plural is my Second:
+  My Third is far the pluralest--
+  So plural-plural, I protest
+      It scarcely can be reckoned!
+
+  My First is followed by a bird:
+      My Second by believers
+  In magic art: my simple Third
+  Follows, too often, hopes absurd
+      And plausible deceivers.
+
+  My First to get at wisdom tries--
+      A failure melancholy!
+  My Second men revered as wise:
+  My Third from heights of wisdom flies
+      To depths of frantic folly.
+
+  My First is ageing day by day:
+      My Second's age is ended:
+  My Third enjoys an age, they say,
+  That never seems to fade away,
+      Through centuries extended.
+
+  My Whole? I need a poet's pen
+      To paint her myriad phases:
+  The monarch, and the slave, of men--
+  A mountain-summit, and a den
+      Of dark and deadly mazes--
+
+  A flashing light--a fleeting shade--
+      Beginning, end, and middle
+  Of all that human art hath made
+  Or wit devised! Go, seek _her_ aid,
+      If you would read my riddle!
+
+
+
+
+FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET.
+
+[Affectionately dedicated to all "original researchers" who pant for
+"endowment."]
+
+
+  Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack,
+    Ye little men of little souls!
+  And bid them huddle at your back--
+    Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals!
+
+  Fill all the air with hungry wails--
+    "Reward us, ere we think or write!
+  Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails
+    To sate the swinish appetite!"
+
+  And, where great Plato paced serene,
+    Or Newton paused with wistful eye,
+  Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean
+    And Babel-clamour of the sty!
+
+  Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise:
+    We will not rob them of their due,
+  Nor vex the ghosts of other days
+    By naming them along with you.
+
+  They sought and found undying fame:
+    They toiled not for reward nor thanks:
+  Their cheeks are hot with honest shame
+    For you, the modern mountebanks!
+
+  Who preach of Justice--plead with tears
+    That Love and Mercy should abound--
+  While marking with complacent ears
+    The moaning of some tortured hound:
+
+  Who prate of Wisdom--nay, forbear,
+    Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath,
+  Trampling, with heel that will not spare,
+    The vermin that beset her path!
+
+  Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms,
+    Ye idols of a petty clique:
+  Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,
+    And make your penny-trumpets squeak:
+
+[Illustration: "GO, THRONG EACH OTHER'S DRAWING-ROOMS"]
+
+  Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
+    Of learning from a nobler time,
+  And oil each other's little heads
+    With mutual Flattery's golden slime:
+
+  And when the topmost height ye gain,
+    And stand in Glory's ether clear,
+  And grasp the prize of all your pain--
+    So many hundred pounds a year--
+
+  Then let Fame's banner be unfurled!
+    Sing Paeans for a victory won!
+  Ye tapers, that would light the world,
+    And cast a shadow on the Sun--
+
+  Who still shall pour His rays sublime,
+    One crystal flood, from East to West,
+  When ye have burned your little time
+    And feebly flickered into rest!
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+[TURN OVER.
+
+
+
+
+WORKS BY LEWIS CARROLL.
+
+
+ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. With Forty-two Illustrations by TENNIEL.
+Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._ Seventy-first Thousand.
+
+TRANSLATIONS OF THE SAME--into French, by HENRI BUE--into German, by
+ANTONIE ZIMMERMANN--and into Italian, by T. PIETROCOLA ROSSETTI--with
+TENNIEL'S Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._ each.
+
+THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS, AND WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE. With Fifty
+Illustrations by TENNIEL. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 6_s._
+Fifty-second Thousand.
+
+RHYME? AND REASON? With Sixty-five Illustrations by ARTHUR B. FROST, and
+Nine by HENRY HOLIDAY. (This book is a reprint, with a few additions, of
+the comic portion of "Phantasmagoria and other Poems," and of "The Hunting
+of the Snark." Mr. Frost's pictures are new.) Crown 8vo, cloth, coloured
+edges, price 7_s._
+
+
+N.B. In selling the above-mentioned books to the Trade, Messrs. Macmillan
+and Co. will abate 2_d._ in the shilling (no odd copies), and allow 5 per
+cent. discount for payment within six months, and 10 per cent. for cash.
+In selling them to the Public (for cash only) they will allow 10 per cent.
+discount.
+
+
+MR. LEWIS CARROLL, having been requested to allow "AN EASTER GREETING" (a
+leaflet, addressed to children, and frequently given with his books) to be
+sold separately, has arranged with Messrs. HARRISON, of 59, Pall Mall, who
+will supply a single copy for 1_d._, or 12 for 9_d._, or 100 for 5_s._
+
+
+MACMILLAN & CO., LONDON.
+
+LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_.
+
+Superscripted characters are indicated by {superscript}.
+
+
+
+
+
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 19:59:49 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 19:59:49 -0700
commit	0fd92f611a87b85d157f8bc31f17f6e543d3550b (patch)
tree	f4c80deaa907a2d97bc83e6c9e847b13243d9c5e