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diff --git a/33582-h/33582-h.htm b/33582-h/33582-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b2e80b --- /dev/null +++ b/33582-h/33582-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4572 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<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"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + body {margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; font-style: normal;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + + hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .poem {margin-left:15%; margin-right:15%;} + .note {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} + + .right {text-align: right;} + .center {text-align: center;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#6633cc; text-decoration:none} + + .spacer {padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em;} + + .adverts {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} + + .hang {margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<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> </p><p> </p> +<h1>RHYME?<br />AND REASON?</h1> +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i002.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i004.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><small>“UPON A BATTLEMENT.”</small><span class="spacer"> </span>[<i>See</i> p. <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</p> + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> + +<h1>RHYME?<br />AND REASON?</h1> +<p> </p> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>LEWIS CARROLL</h3> +<p> </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> </p> +<p class="center">I have had nor rhyme nor reason</p> +<p> </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> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center">London:<br /><span class="smcap">R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor</span><br />BREAD STREET HILL, E.C.</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </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> </p><p> </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’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> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Phantasmagoria</span>, in Seven Cantos:—</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’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">Tèma Con Variazióni</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:—</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’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’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’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’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’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’</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’s Penny-Trumpet</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </p><p> </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> </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—<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> </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> </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 “Come, come, my man!<br /> +That’s a most inconsiderate plan.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Less noise there, if you please!”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span><br /> +“I’ve caught a cold,” the Thing replies,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Out there upon the landing.”</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 /> +“How came you here,” I said, “and why?<br /> +I never saw a thing so shy.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Come out! Don’t shiver there!”</span><br /> +<br /> +He said “I’d gladly tell you how,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And also tell you why;</span><br /> +But” (here he gave a little bow)<br /> +“You’re in so bad a temper now,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You’d think it all a lie.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span><br /> +“No plea,” said I, “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’n’t refuse<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To grant the interview.”</span><br /> +<br /> +He said “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 /> +“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 /> +“This is a ‘one-ghost’ 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 /> +“In Villas this is always done—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">However cheaply rented:</span><br /> +For, though of course there’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 /> +“That Spectre left you on the Third—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Since then you’ve not been haunted:</span><br /> +For, as he never sent us word,<br /> +’Twas quite by accident we heard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That any one was wanted.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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—<br /> +If all these fail them, they invite<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The nicest Ghoul that they can see.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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’t well decline.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><br /> +“No doubt,” said I, “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!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“I’m not so young, Sir,” he replied,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“As you might think. The fact is,</span><br /> +In caverns by the water-side,<br /> +And other places that I’ve tried,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I’ve had a lot of practice:</span><br /> +<br /> +“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.”</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> </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>“IN CAVERNS BY THE WATER-SIDE”</small></p> +<p> </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>“At least,” I said, “I’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’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 /> +“Though, certainly, you don’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—<br /> +If you will say them loud and clear—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Rules that you allude to.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Thanks! You shall hear them by and by<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This <i>is</i> a piece of luck!”</span><br /> +“What may I offer you?” said I.<br /> +“Well, since you <i>are</i> so kind, I’ll try<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little bit of duck.</span><br /> +<br /> +“<i>One</i> slice! And may I ask you for<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Another drop of gravy?”</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> </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> </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—</span><br /> +Seen in the dim and flickering light,<br /> +As he proceeded to recite<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">His “Maxims of Behaviour.”</span></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </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>“My First—but don’t suppose,” he said,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“I’m setting you a riddle—</span><br /> +Is—if your Victim be in bed,<br /> +Don’t touch the curtains at his head,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But take them in the middle,</span><br /> +<br /> +“And wave them slowly in and out,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While drawing them asunder;</span><br /> +And in a minute’s time, no doubt,<br /> +He’ll raise his head and look about<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With eyes of wrath and wonder.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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>“If he should say ‘<i>How came you here?</i>’<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(The way that <i>you</i> began, Sir,)</span><br /> +In such a case your course is clear—<br /> +‘<i>On the bat’s back, my little dear!</i>’<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is the appropriate answer.</span><br /> +<br /> +“If after this he says no more,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You’d best perhaps curtail your</span><br /> +Exertions—go and shake the door,<br /> +And then, if he begins to snore,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You’ll know the thing’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>“By day, if he should be alone—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At home or on a walk—</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 /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One soon learns how to do it.</span><br /> +<br /> +“The Second tells us what is right<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In ceremonious calls:—</span><br /> +‘<i>First burn a blue or crimson light</i>’<br /> +(A thing I quite forgot to-night),<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">‘<i>Then scratch the door or walls.</i>’”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“AND SWING YOURSELF FROM SIDE TO SIDE”</small></p> +<p> </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 “You’ll visit <i>here</i> no more,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If you attempt the Guy.</span><br /> +I’ll have no bonfires on <i>my</i> floor—<br /> +And, as for scratching at the door,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I’d like to see you try!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“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>.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“That’s plain,” said I, “as Tare and Tret,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To any comprehension:</span><br /> +I only wish <i>some</i> Ghosts I’ve met<br /> +Would not so <i>constantly</i> forget<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The maxim that you mention!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Perhaps,” he said, “<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> </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> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“If you address a Ghost as ‘Thing!’<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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And then you’re <i>sure</i> to catch it!</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span><br /> +“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 /> +“That simply means ‘be cut up small’:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ghosts soon unite anew:</span><br /> +The process scarcely hurts at all—<br /> +Not more than when <i>you’re</i> what you call<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">‘Cut up’ by a Review.</span><br /> +<br /> +“The Fifth is one you may prefer<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That I should quote entire:—</span><br /> +<i>The King must be addressed as ‘Sir.’</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 /> +“<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 ‘My Goblin King!’</i><br /> +<i>And always use, in answering,</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The phrase ‘Your Royal Whiteness!’</i></span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><br /> +“I’m getting rather hoarse, I fear,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">After so much reciting:</span><br /> +So, if you don’t object, my dear,<br /> +We’ll try a glass of bitter beer—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think it looks inviting.”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i029.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </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>“And did you really walk,” said I,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“On such a wretched night?</span><br /> +I always fancied Ghosts could fly—<br /> +If not exactly in the sky,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet at a fairish height.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“It’s very well,” said he, “for Kings<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To soar above the earth:</span><br /> +But Phantoms often find that wings—<br /> +Like many other pleasant things—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cost more than they are worth.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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—<br /> +They’re stupid company, you know.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For any but themselves:</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“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—<br /> +Just as no Turkey ever dreamt<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of noticing a Bantam.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><br /> +“They seem too proud,” said I, “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 ‘the place was low,’<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And that I ‘kept bad wine’?”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Inspector Kobold came to you—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The little Ghost began.</span><br /> +Here I broke in—“Inspector who?<br /> +Inspecting Ghosts is something new!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Explain yourself my man!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“His name is Kobold,” said my guest:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“One of the Spectre order:</span><br /> +You’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 /> +“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> </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>“AND HERE IT TOOK THE FORM OF <i>THIRST</i>”</small></p> +<p> </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>“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>.”</span><br /> +<br /> +I bore it—bore it like a man—<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 /> +“Cooks need not be indulged in waste;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet still you’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 /> +“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’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 /> +“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’t let them send it cold.</span><br /> +<br /> +“You’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’t <i>quite</i> so sour?”</span><br /> +<br /> +Then, peering round with curious eyes,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He muttered “Goodness gracious!”</span><br /> +And so went on to criticise—<br /> +“Your room’s an inconvenient size:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It’s neither snug nor spacious.</span><br /> +<br /> +“That narrow window, I expect,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Serves but to let the dusk in—”</span><br /> +“But please,” said I, “to recollect<br /> +’Twas fashioned by an architect<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><br /> +“I don’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’m a living Wraith!</span><br /> +<br /> +“What a re-markable cigar!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">How much are they a dozen?”</span><br /> +I growled “No matter what they are!<br /> +You’re getting as familiar<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As if you were my cousin!</span><br /> +<br /> +“Now that’s a thing <i>I will not stand</i>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And so I tell you flat.”</span><br /> +“Aha,” said he, “we’re getting grand!”<br /> +(Taking a bottle in his hand)<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“I’ll soon arrange for <i>that</i>!”</span><br /> +<br /> +And here he took a careful aim,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And gaily cried “Here goes!”</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 “Two and five are four,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But <i>five and two</i> are six.”</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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The fire was getting low—</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> </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>“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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“That story is in print!” I cried.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Don’t say it’s not, because</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>It’s known as well as Bradshaw’s Guide!”<br /> +(The Ghost uneasily replied<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He hardly thought it was).</span></td></tr></table> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“It’s not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I almost think it is—</span><br /> +‘Three little Ghosteses’ were set<br /> +‘On posteses,’ you know, and ate<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their ‘buttered toasteses.’</span><br /> +<br /> +“I have the book; so, if you doubt it—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I turned to search the shelf.</span><br /> +“Don’t stir!” he cried. “We’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 /> +“It came out in a ‘Monthly,’ 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 /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +One was a Pixy, two were Fays,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Another was a Banshee;</span><br /> +<br /> +“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—</span><br /> +<br /> +“(If that’s a snuff-box on the shelf,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He added with a yawn,</span><br /> +“I’ll take a pinch)—next came an Elf,<br /> +And then a Phantom (that’s myself),<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And last, a Leprechaun.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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’t make them out at all,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They seemed so strange a sight.</span></td></tr></table> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> +<tr><td valign="top"><img src="images/i041.jpg" alt="" /></td> +<td>“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 /> +“Since then I’ve often wished that I<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Had been a Spectre born.</span><br /> +But what’s the use?” (He heaved a sigh).<br /> +“<i>They</i> are the ghost-nobility,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And look on <i>us</i> with scorn.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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—<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 /> +“I’ve haunted dungeons, castles, towers—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wherever I was sent:</span><br /> +I’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> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“It’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—”<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 /> +“Perhaps,” he added, “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 /> +“And when you’ve learned to squeak, my man<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And caught the double sob,</span><br /> +You’re pretty much where you began:<br /> +Just try and gibber if you can!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That’s something <i>like</i> a job!</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span><br /> +“<i>I’ve</i> tried it, and can only say<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I’m sure you couldn’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 /> +“Shakspeare I think it is who treats<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of Ghosts, in days of old,</span><br /> +Who ‘gibbered in the Roman streets,’<br /> +Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They must have found it cold.</span><br /> +<br /> +“I’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 /> +“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> </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> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“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 /> +“What with the things you have to hire—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The fitting on the robe—</span><br /> +And testing all the coloured fire—<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 /> +“And then they’re so fastidious,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Haunted-House Committee:</span><br /> +I’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 /> +“Some dialects are objected to—<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!”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“Don’t they consult the ‘Victims,’ though?”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said. “They should, by rights,</span><br /> +Give them a chance—because, you know,<br /> +The tastes of people differ so,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Especially in Sprites.”</span><br /> +<br /> +The Phantom shook his head and smiled.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Consult them? Not a bit!</span><br /> +’Twould be a job to drive one wild,<br /> +To satisfy one single child—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">There’d be no end to it!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Of course you can’t leave <i>children</i> free,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Said I, “to pick and choose:</span><br /> +But, in the case of men like me,<br /> +I think ‘Mine Host’ might fairly be<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Allowed to state his views.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /> +He said “It really wouldn’t pay—<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 /> +“And, though we don’t consult ‘Mine Host’<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Before the thing’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 /> +“But if the host’s a man like you—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I mean a man of sense;</span><br /> +And if the house is not too new—”<br /> +“Why, what has <i>that</i>,” said I, “to do<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With Ghost’s convenience?”</span><br /> +<br /> +“A new house does not suit, you know—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It’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.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><br /> +“To trim” was not a phrase I could<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Remember having heard:</span><br /> +“Perhaps,” I said, “you’ll be so good<br /> +As tell me what is understood<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Exactly by that word?”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i048.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“It means the loosening all the doors,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Ghost replied, and laughed:</span><br /> +“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 /> +“You’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—<br /> +But <i>here</i> there’ll be a lot to do!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I faintly gasped “Indeed!</span><br /> +<br /> +“If I’d been rather later, I’ll<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be bound,” I added, trying</span><br /> +(Most unsuccessfully) to smile,<br /> +“You’d have been busy all this while,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Trimming and beautifying?”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Why, no,” said he; “perhaps I should<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have stayed another minute—</span><br /> +But still no Ghost, that’s any good,<br /> +Without an introduction would<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have ventured to begin it.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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’s leave to wait<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For half an hour or so.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br /> +“Who’s the Knight-Mayor?” I cried. Instead<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of answering my question,</span><br /> +“Well! If you don’t know <i>that</i>,” he said,<br /> +“Either you never go to bed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or you’ve a grand digestion!</span><br /> +<br /> +“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.”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(I said “It serves them right!”)</span><br /> +<br /> +“And folk that sup on things like these—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He muttered, “eggs and bacon—</span><br /> +Lobster—and duck—and toasted cheese—<br /> +If they don’t get an awful squeeze,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I’m very much mistaken!</span><br /> +<br /> +“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> </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>“HE GOES ABOUT AND SITS ON FOLK”</small></p> +<p> </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>“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—<br /> +He was so frantic with despair<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And furious with excitement.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i052.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“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 /> +“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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“’Twas a great liberty to take!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(I fired up like a rocket).</span><br /> +“He did it just for punning’s sake:<br /> +‘The man,’ says Johnson, ‘that would make<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A pun, would pick a pocket!’”</span><br /> +<br /> +“A man,” said he, “is not a King.”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I argued for a while,</span><br /> +And did my best to prove the thing—<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—</span><br /> +“Your <i>aim</i>,” he said, “is excellent:<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>But—when you call it <i>argument</i>—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of course you’re only joking?”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i054.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </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 “At least I do defy<br /> +The veriest sceptic to deny<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That union is strength!”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><br /> +“That’s true enough,” said he, “yet stay—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I listened in all meekness—</span><br /> +“<i>Union</i> is strength, I’m bound to say;<br /> +In fact, the thing’s as clear as day;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But <i>onions</i>—are a weakness.”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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> </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—</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> </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 ‘therefore’ or ‘because,’</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 “That’s regular clap-trap:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don’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 /> +“You’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!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said “<i>That’s very curious!</i>”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIPPERS OFF HIS FEET”</small></p> +<p> </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>“Well, it <i>is</i> curious, I agree,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And sounds perhaps like fibs:</span><br /> +But still it’s true as true can be—<br /> +As sure as your name’s Tibbs,” said he.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I said “My name’s <i>not</i> Tibbs.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“<i>Not</i> Tibbs!” he cried—his tone became<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A shade or two less hearty—</span><br /> +“Why, no,” said I. “My proper name<br /> +Is Tibbets—” “Tibbets?” “Aye, the same.”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Why, then <span class="smcaplc">YOU’RE NOT THE PARTY</span>!”</span><br /> +<br /> +With that he struck the board a blow<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That shivered half the glasses.</span><br /> +“Why couldn’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 /> +“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’s in vain—<br /> +And I’ve to do it all again—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It’s really <i>too</i> provoking!</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“Don’t talk!” he cried, as I began<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To mutter some excuse.</span><br /> +“Who can have patience with a man<br /> +That’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 /> +“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!” he said.<br /> +“There, that’ll do—be off to bed!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don’t gape like that, you dunce!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“It’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’t you enquire my name<br /> +The very minute that you came?”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I answered in a passion.</span><br /> +<br /> +“Of course it worries you a bit<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To come so far on foot—</span><br /> +But how was <i>I</i> to blame for it?”<br /> +“Well, well!” said he. “I must admit<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That isn’t badly put.</span><br /> +<br /> +“And certainly you’ve given me<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The best of wine and victual—</span><br /> +Excuse my violence,” said he,<br /> +“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 /> +“’Twas <i>my</i> fault after all, I find—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shake hands, old Turnip-top!”</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 /> +“Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I am gone, perhaps</span><br /> +They’ll send you some inferior Sprite,<br /> +Who’ll keep you in a constant fright<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And spoil your soundest naps.</span><br /> +<br /> +“Tell him you’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’s pretty hard and thick)<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And rap him on the knuckles!</span><br /> +<br /> +“Then carelessly remark ‘Old coon!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Perhaps you’re not aware</span><br /> +That, if you don’t behave, you’ll soon<br /> +Be chuckling to another tune—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And so you’d best take care!’</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /> +“That’s the right way to cure a Sprite<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of such-like goings-on—</span><br /> +But gracious me! It’s getting light!<br /> +Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A nod, and he was gone.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i064.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i065.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“What’s this?” I pondered. “Have I slept?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or can I have been drinking?”</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 /> +“No need for Bones to hurry so!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I sobbed. “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—<br /> +And who is Tibbs, I’d like to know,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To make such work about?</span><br /> +<br /> +“If Tibbs is anything like me,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It’s <i>possible</i>,” I said,</span><br /> +“He won’t be over-pleased to be<br /> +Dropped in upon at half-past three,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">After he’s snug in bed.</span><br /> +<br /> +“And if Bones plagues him anyhow—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Squeaking and all the rest of it,</span><br /> +As he was doing here just now—<br /> +<i>I</i> prophesy there’ll be a row,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Tibbs will have the best of it!”</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> </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>“AND TIBBS WILL HAVE THE BEST OF IT”</small></p> +<p> </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>‘<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 /> +‘<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—</i><br /> +<i>Old Brick, or rather, let me say,</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Old Parallelepiped!</i>’</span><br /> +<br /> +Instead of singing Verse the Third,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I ceased—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’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;">“Old Turnip-top, good-night!”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i069.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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;">“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.”<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">“Kind words are more than coronets,”</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">She said, and wondering looked at me:</span><br /> +“It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea.”</td></tr></table> + + +<p> </p><p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i071.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>There are certain things—as, a spider, a ghost,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three—</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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ugly I’m sure you’ll allow it to be:</span><br /> +Suppose it extended a mile or more,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>That’s</i> very like the Sea.</span><br /> +<br /> +Beat a dog till it howls outright—<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—</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—<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 ‘thoughts as boundless, and souls as free’:</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> </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>“AND THIS WAS BY THE SEA”</small></p> +<p> </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 ‘to flee’).</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—<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—I recommend the Sea.</span><br /> +<br /> +For <i>I</i> have friends who dwell by the coast—<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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i075.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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—a ryghte goode horse—<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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yt ys—a horse of clothes.</span><br /> +<br /> +I have a saddel—“Say’st thou soe?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?”</span><br /> +I sayde not that—I answere “Noe”—<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—a ryghte good bytte—<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—thys bytte of rhyme.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“I HAVE A HORSE”</small></p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<h2>HIAWATHA’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 ‘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.]</p> + +<p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i079.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;">This he perched upon a tripod—</span><br /> +Crouched beneath its dusky cover—<br /> +Stretched his hand, enforcing silence—<br /> +Said “Be motionless, I beg you!”<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’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> </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>“FIRST THE GOVERNOR, THE FATHER”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“Am I sitting still?” she asked him.<br /> +“Is my face enough in profile?<br /> +Shall I hold the bouquet higher?<br /> +Will it come into the picture?”<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 ‘The Stones of Venice,’<br /> +‘Seven Lamps of Architecture,’<br /> +‘Modern Painters,’ and some others);<br /> +And perhaps he had not fully<br /> +Understood his author’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> </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>“NEXT THE SON, THE STUNNING-CANTAB”</small></p> +<p> </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 ‘passive beauty.’<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’t heard it;<br /> +But, when pointedly appealed to,<br /> +Smiled in his peculiar manner,<br /> +Coughed and said it ‘didn’t matter,’<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> </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>“NEXT TO HIM THE ELDEST DAUGHTER”</small></p> +<p> </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, ‘Daddy’s Darling,’<br /> +Called him Jacky, ‘Scrubby School-boy.’<br /> +And, so awful was the picture,<br /> +In comparison the others<br /> +Seemed, to one’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 /> +(‘Grouped’ 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> </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>“LAST, THE YOUNGEST SON WAS TAKEN”</small></p> +<p> </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—<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!’<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’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’d be before he’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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i089.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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 “I fear ’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’ll sing to thee to-morrow.”</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> </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>“AT NIGHT SHE SIGHED”</small></p> +<p> </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’rt awake, thou weepest!</span><br /> +<br /> +I took my sister t’other day<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Excuse the slang expression)</span><br /> +To Sadler’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’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’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—</span><br /> +To ventilate the last ‘<i>on dit</i>’—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To quote the price of leather—</span><br /> +She groaned “Here I and Sorrow sit:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let us lament together!”</span><br /> +<br /> +I urged “You’re wasting time, you know:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Delay will spoil the venison.”</span><br /> +“My heart is wasted with my woe!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There is no rest—in Venice, on</span><br /> +The Bridge of Sighs!” 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 /> +“Madam,” the sportive Brown essayed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Which kind of recreation,</span><br /> +Hunting or fishing, have you made<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your special occupation?”</span><br /> +<br /> +Her lips curved downwards instantly,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if of india-rubber.</span><br /> +“Hounds <i>in full cry</i> I like,” said she:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Oh how I longed to snub her!)</span><br /> +“Of fish, a whale’s the one for me,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>It is so full of blubber</i>!”</span><br /> +<br /> +The night’s performance was “King John.”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“It’s dull,” she wept, “and so-so!”</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;">‘Bombastes Furioso.’</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—</span><br /> +“<i>Tier upon tier!</i>” she said, and sighed;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And silence followed after.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i095.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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’t seem to miss him if he stayed away.]</p> +<p> </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’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’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> </p><p> </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> </p> +<h3>The First Voice.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i099.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </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—<br /> +It fanned his forehead as he sat—<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> </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>“UNERRINGLY SHE PINNED IT DOWN.”</small></p> +<p> </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>“To dine!” she sneered in acid tone.<br /> +“To bend thy being to a bone<br /> +Clothed in a radiance not its own!”<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 /> +“Term it not ‘radiance,’” said he:<br /> +“’Tis solid nutriment to me.<br /> +Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea.”<br /> +<br /> +And she “Yea so? Yet wherefore cease?<br /> +Let thy scant knowledge find increase.<br /> +Say ‘Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.’”<br /> +<br /> +He moaned: he knew not what to say.<br /> +The thought “That I could get away!”<br /> +Strove with the thought “But I must stay.”<br /> +<br /> +“To dine!” she shrieked in dragon-wrath.<br /> +“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 /> +“Say, can thy noble spirit stoop<br /> +To join the gormandising troop<br /> +Who find a solace in the soup?<br /> +<br /> +“Canst thou desire or pie or puff?<br /> +Thy well-bred manners were enough,<br /> +Without such gross material stuff.”<br /> +<br /> +“Yet well-bred men,” he faintly said,<br /> +“Are not unwilling to be fed:<br /> +Nor are they well without the bread.”<br /> +<br /> +Her visage scorched him ere she spoke:<br /> +“There are,” she said, “a kind of folk<br /> +Who have no horror of a joke.<br /> +<br /> +“Such wretches live: they take their share<br /> +Of common earth and common air:<br /> +We come across them here and there:<br /> +<br /> +“We grant them—there is no escape—<br /> +A sort of semi-human shape<br /> +Suggestive of the man-like Ape.”<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><br /> +“In all such theories,” said he,<br /> +“One fixed exception there must be.<br /> +That is, the Present Company.”<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 “Each gives to more than each.”<br /> +<br /> +He could not answer yea or nay:<br /> +He faltered “Gifts may pass away.”<br /> +Yet knew not what he meant to say.<br /> +<br /> +“If that be so,” she straight replied,<br /> +“Each heart with each doth coincide.<br /> +What boots it? For the world is wide.”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“HE FALTERED ‘GIFTS MAY PASS AWAY.’”</small></p> +<p> </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>“The world is but a Thought,” said he:<br /> +“The vast unfathomable sea<br /> +Is but a Notion—unto me.”<br /> +<br /> +And darkly fell her answer dread<br /> +Upon his unresisting head,<br /> +Like half a hundredweight of lead.<br /> +<br /> +“The Good and Great must ever shun<br /> +That reckless and abandoned one<br /> +Who stoops to perpetrate a pun.<br /> +<br /> +“The man that smokes—that reads the <i>Times</i>—<br /> +That goes to Christmas Pantomimes—<br /> +Is capable of <i>any</i> crimes!”<br /> +<br /> +He felt it was his turn to speak,<br /> +And, with a shamed and crimson cheek,<br /> +Moaned “This is harder than Bezique!”<br /> +<br /> +But when she asked him “Wherefore so?”<br /> +He felt his very whiskers glow,<br /> +And frankly owned “I do not know.”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“THIS IS HARDER THAN BEZIQUE!”</small></p> +<p> </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 “The More exceeds the Less.”<br /> +<br /> +“A truth of such undoubted weight,”<br /> +He urged, “and so extreme in date,<br /> +It were superfluous to state.”<br /> +<br /> +Roused into sudden passion, she<br /> +In tone of cold malignity:<br /> +“To others, yea: but not to thee.”<br /> +<br /> +But when she saw him quail and quake,<br /> +And when he urged “For pity’s sake!”<br /> +Once more in gentle tone she spake.<br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“And he, that yearns the truth to know,<br /> +Still further inwardly may go,<br /> +And find Idea from Notion flow:<br /> +<br /> +“And thus the chain, that sages sought,<br /> +Is to a glorious circle wrought,<br /> +For Notion hath its source in Thought.”<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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i109.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +<h3>The Second Voice.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i110.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </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 “No cheese is made of chalk”:<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 “Which?”<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 “Why?” and “Whence?”<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 /> +“Mind—I believe—is Essence—Ent—<br /> +Abstract—that is—an Accident—<br /> +Which we—that is to say—I meant—”<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> </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>“HE SPAKE, NEGLECTING SOUND AND SENSE.”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss<br /> +Of other thoughts no thought but this,<br /> +Harmonious dews of sober bliss?<br /> +<br /> +“What boots it? Shall his fevered eye<br /> +Through towering nothingness descry<br /> +The grisly phantom hurry by?<br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“The meadows breathing amber light,<br /> +The darkness toppling from the height,<br /> +The feathery train of granite Night?<br /> +<br /> +“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> </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>“SHALL MAN BE MAN?”</small></p> +<p> </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>“And hear the sounds he knew of yore,<br /> +Old shufflings on the sanded floor,<br /> +Old knuckles tapping at the door?<br /> +<br /> +“Yet still before him as he flies<br /> +One pallid form shall ever rise,<br /> +And, bodying forth in glassy eyes<br /> +<br /> +“The vision of a vanished good,<br /> +Low peering through the tangled wood,<br /> +Shall freeze the current of his blood.”<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’s stifled beat,<br /> +The velvet tread of porters’ 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—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—<br /> +<br /> +Save one, who groaned “Three hours are gone!”<br /> +Who shrieked “We’ll wait no longer, John!<br /> +Tell them to set the dinner on!”<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> </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>“HE SAT AND WATCHED THE COMING TIDE”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“In truth,” he said, “it was absurd.”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i120.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h3>The Third Voice.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i121.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>Not long this transport held its place:<br /> +Within a little moment’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 /> +“Tears kindle not the doubtful spark.<br /> +If so, why not? Of this remark<br /> +The bearings are profoundly dark.”<br /> +<br /> +“Her speech,” he said, “hath caused this pain.<br /> +Easier I count it to explain<br /> +The jargon of the howling main,<br /> +<br /> +“Or, stretched beside some babbling brook,<br /> +To con, with inexpressive look,<br /> +An unintelligible book.”<br /> +<br /> +Low spake the voice within his head,<br /> +In words imagined more than said,<br /> +Soundless as ghost’s intended tread:<br /> +<br /> +“If thou art duller than before,<br /> +Why quittedst thou the voice of lore?<br /> +Why not endure, expecting more?”<br /> +<br /> +“Rather than that,” he groaned aghast,<br /> +“I’d writhe in depths of cavern vast,<br /> +Some loathly vampire’s rich repast.”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“HE GROANED AGHAST”</small></p> +<p> </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>“’Twere hard,” it answered, “themes immense<br /> +To coop within the narrow fence<br /> +That rings <i>thy</i> scant intelligence.”<br /> +<br /> +“Not so,” he urged, “nor once alone:<br /> +But there was something in her tone<br /> +That chilled me to the very bone.<br /> +<br /> +“Her style was anything but clear,<br /> +And most unpleasantly severe;<br /> +Her epithets were very queer.<br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“Nor did I leave her, till she went<br /> +So deep in tangled argument<br /> +That all my powers of thought were spent.”<br /> +<br /> +A little whisper inly slid,<br /> +“Yet truth is truth: you know you did.”<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—like a breeze<br /> +Lost in the depths of leafy trees—<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 /> +“Tell me my fault,” 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 /> +“Alack,” he sighed, “what <i>have</i> I done?”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“TORTURED, UNAIDED, AND ALONE”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“What? Ever thus, in dismal round,<br /> +Shall Pain and Mystery profound<br /> +Pursue me like a sleepless hound,<br /> +<br /> +“With crimson-dashed and eager jaws,<br /> +Me, still in ignorance of the cause,<br /> +Unknowing what I broke of laws?”<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 /> +“Her fate with thine was intertwined,”<br /> +So spake it in his inner mind:</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“A SCARED DULLARD, GIBBERING LOW”</small></p> +<p> </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>“Each orbed on each a baleful star:<br /> +Each proved the other’s blight and bar:<br /> +Each unto each were best, most far:<br /> +<br /> +“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>!”</td></tr></table> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> +<h2>TÈMA CON VARIAZIÓNI.</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 “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.</p> + +<p>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——</p></div> + +<p> </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—<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’s had a fight, but can’t tell why—</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> </p><p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i132.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </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—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 “Now tell me which you <i>mean</i>!”</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“NOW TELL ME WHICH YOU <i>MEAN</i>!”</small></p> +<p> </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—but Thirty is an age<br /> +When girls may be <i>engaging</i>, but they somehow don’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"> </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>passé</i> girls—Their age? Well, never mind!<br /> +We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:<br /> +But the quondam “careless bachelor” begins to think he knows<br /> +The answer to that ancient problem “how the money goes”!</td></tr></table> + + + +<p> </p><p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i135.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“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 ‘the very wish<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Partook of the sublime.’</span><br /> +Then tell me how! Don’t put me off<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With your ‘another time’!”</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 “There’s no hum-drum in him,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor any shilly-shally.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“And would you be a poet<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Before you’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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A very simple rule.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“Then, if you’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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those are the things that pay!</span><br /> +<br /> +“Next, when you are describing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shape, or sound, or tint;</span><br /> +Don’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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“For instance, if I wished, Sir,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of mutton-pies to tell,</span><br /> +Should I say ‘dreams of fleecy flocks<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pent in a wheaten cell’?”</span><br /> +“Why, yes,” the old man said: “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 /> +“Then fourthly, there are epithets<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That suit with any word—</span><br /> +As well as Harvey’s Reading Sauce<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With fish, or flesh, or bird—</span><br /> +Of these, ‘wild,’ ‘lonely,’ ‘weary,’ ‘strange,’<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are much to be preferred.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“And will it do, O will it do<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To take them in a lump—</span><br /> +As ‘the wild man went his weary way<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To a strange and lonely pump’?”</span><br /> +“Nay, nay! You must not hastily<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To such conclusions jump.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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> </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>“THE WILD MAN WENT HIS WEARY WAY”</small></p> +<p> </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>“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 /> +“Therefore, to test his patience—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How much he can endure—</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 /> +“First fix upon the limit<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To which it shall extend:</span><br /> +Then fill it up with ‘Padding’<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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“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;">‘<i>Exempli gratiâ</i>.’”</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 “Go to the Adelphi,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And see the ‘Colleen Bawn.’</span><br /> +<br /> +“The word is due to Boucicault—<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’t know what it is.</span><br /> +<br /> +“Now try your hand, ere Fancy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have lost its present glow—”</span><br /> +“And then,” his grandson added,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“We’ll publish it, you know:</span><br /> +Green cloth—gold-lettered at the back—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In duodecimo!”</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—</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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i142.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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> </p> +<div class="note"> +<p class="center">PREFACE.</p> + +<p>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)</p> + +<p class="poem">“Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:”</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—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—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<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, “<i>No one shall speak to the Man at +the Helm</i>,” had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words “<i>and +the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one</i>.” 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 “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.</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’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 “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.”</p> + +<p>Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words—</p> + +<p class="poem">“Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!”</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 “Rilchiam!”</p></div> + +<p> </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>“Just the place for a Snark!” 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 /> +“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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +The crew was complete: it included a Boots—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A maker of Bonnets and Hoods—</span><br /> +A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a Broker, to value their goods.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“SUPPORTING EACH MAN ON THE TOP OF THE TIDE”</small></p> +<p> </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—</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—but the worst of it was<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He had wholly forgotten his name.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“HE HAD WHOLLY FORGOTTEN HIS NAME”</small></p> +<p> </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 “Hi!” or to any loud cry,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as “Fry me!” or “Fritter my wig!”</span><br /> +To “What-you-may-call-um!” or “What-was-his-name!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But especially “Thing-um-a jig!”</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 “Candle-ends,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And his enemies “Toasted-cheese.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“His form is ungainly—his intellect small—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(So the Bellman would often remark)—</span><br /> +“But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.”</span><br /> +<br /> +He would joke with hyænas, 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;">“Just to keep up its spirits,” he said.</span><br /> +<br /> +He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad—</span><br /> +He could only bake Bride-cake—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—but, that one being “Snark,”<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> </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>“THE BEAVER KEPT LOOKING THE OPPOSITE WAY”</small></p> + +<p> </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’s best course was, no doubt, to procure<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A second-hand dagger-proof coat—</span><br /> +So the Baker advised it—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> </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’S SPEECH.</i></p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies—<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 /> +“What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?”</span><br /> +So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“They are merely conventional signs!</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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> </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>“Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank”</span><br /> +(So the crew would protest) “that he’s bought <i>us</i> the best—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A perfect and absolute blank!”</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—but the orders he gave<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were enough to bewilder a crew.</span><br /> +When he cried “Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!”<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, “snarked.”</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—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—<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 /> +“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 /> +“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 (’tis your Captain who speaks)<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“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 /> +“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 /> +“Its habit of getting up late you’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’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 /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A sentiment open to doubt.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“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—” The Bellman broke off in alarm,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the Baker had fainted away.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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’S TALE.</i></p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>They roused him with muffins—they roused him with ice—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They roused him with mustard and cress—</span><br /> +They roused him with jam and judicious advice—<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 “Silence! Not even a shriek!”<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 “Ho!” 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 /> +“My father and mother were honest, though poor—”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Skip all that!” cried the Bellman in haste.</span><br /> +“If it once becomes dark, there’s no chance of a Snark—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have hardly a minute to waste!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“I skip forty years,” said the Baker, in tears,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“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 /> +“A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Remarked, when I bade him farewell—”</span><br /> +“Oh, skip your dear uncle!” the Bellman exclaimed,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As he angrily tingled his bell.</span><br /> +<br /> +“He remarked to me then,” said that mildest of men,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“‘If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:</span><br /> +Fetch it home by all means—you may serve it with greens<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it’s handy for striking a light.</span><br /> +<br /> +“‘You may seek it with thimbles—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—’”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><br /> +(“That’s exactly the method,” the Bellman bold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In a hasty parenthesis cried,</span><br /> +“That’s exactly the way I have always been told<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the capture of Snarks should be tried!”)</span><br /> +<br /> +“‘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!’</span><br /> +<br /> +“It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When I think of my uncle’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 /> +“It is this, it is this—” “We have had that before!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Bellman indignantly said.</span><br /> +And the Baker replied “Let me say it once more.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is this, it is this that I dread!</span><br /> +<br /> +“I engage with the Snark—every night after dark—<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> </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>“BUT OH, BEAMISH NEPHEW, BEWARE OF THE DAY”</small></p> +<p> </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>“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the notion I cannot endure!”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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;">“If only you’d spoken before!</span><br /> +It’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 /> +“We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you never were met with again—</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 /> +“It’s excessively awkward to mention it now—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As I think I’ve already remarked.”</span><br /> +And the man they called “Hi!” replied, with a sigh,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“I informed you the day we embarked.</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><br /> +“You may charge me with murder—or want of sense—<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 /> +“I said it in Hebrew—I said it in Dutch—<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!”</span><br /> +<br /> +“’Tis a pitiful tale,” said the Bellman, whose face<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had grown longer at every word:</span><br /> +“But, now that you’ve stated the whole of your case,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More debate would be simply absurd.</span><br /> +<br /> +“The rest of my speech” (he explained to his men)<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“You shall hear when I’ve leisure to speak it.</span><br /> +But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">’Tis your glorious duty to seek it!</span><br /> +<br /> +“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> </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>“TO PURSUE IT WITH FORKS AND HOPE.”</small></p> +<p> </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>“For the Snark’s a peculiar creature, that won’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’t:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Not a chance must be wasted to-day!</span><br /> +<br /> +“For England expects—I forbear to proceed:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">’Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:</span><br /> +And you’d best be unpacking the things that you need<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To rig yourselves out for the fight.”</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—<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—</span><br /> +Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which the Bellman declared was all “stuff.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“Introduce me, now there’s a good fellow,” he said,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“If we happen to meet it together!”</span><br /> +And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Said “That must depend on the weather.”</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 /> +“Be a man!” cried the Bellman in wrath, as he heard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Butcher beginning to sob.</span><br /> +“Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We shall need all our strength for the job!”</span></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </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’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 “Snark”<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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That blissful and innocent state—</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 /> +“’Tis the voice of the Jubjub!” he suddenly cried.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(This man, that they used to call “Dunce.”)</span><br /> +“As the Bellman would tell you,” he added with pride,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“I have uttered that sentiment once.”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><br /> +“’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 /> +’Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If only I’ve stated it thrice.”</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 /> +“Two added to one—if that could but be done,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It said, “with one’s fingers and thumbs!”</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 /> +“The thing can be done,” said the Butcher, “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.”</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 /> +“Taking Three as the subject to reason about—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A convenient number to state—</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 /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But much yet remains to be said.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“THE BEAVER BROUGHT PAPER, PORTFOLIO, PENS”</small></p> +<p> </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>“In one moment I’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.”</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 /> +“As to temper the Jubjub’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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is ages ahead of the fashion:</span><br /> +<br /> +“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—though it does not subscribe.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To preserve its symmetrical shape.”</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 “This amply repays all the wearisome days<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have spent on the billowy ocean!”</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, ’twas always the same—<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—as one frequently finds<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour—</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> </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’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’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> </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>“‘YOU MUST KNOW—’ SAID THE JUDGE: BUT THE SNARK EXCLAIMED ‘FUDGE!’”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“You must know—” said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed “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 /> +“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 ‘never indebted.’</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“My poor client’s fate now depends on your votes.”<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’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 “GUILTY!” 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 /> +“Transportation for life” was the sentence it gave,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“And <i>then</i> to be fined forty pound.”</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> </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’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—he offered a cheque<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Drawn “to bearer”) 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—while those frumious jaws<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went savagely snapping around—</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 “It is just as I feared!”<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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A wonderful thing to be seen!</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“SO GREAT WAS HIS FRIGHT THAT HIS WAISTCOAT TURNED WHITE.”</small></p> +<p> </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—ran his hands through his hair—<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 /> +“Leave him here to his fate—it is getting so late!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.</span><br /> +“We have lost half the day. Any further delay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And we sha’n’t catch a Snark before night!”</span></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </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 /> +“There is Thingumbob shouting!” the Bellman said.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“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!”</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;">“He was always a desperate wag!”</span><br /> +They beheld him—their Baker—their hero unnamed—<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 /> +“It’s a Snark!” 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 “It’s a Boo—”</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 “—jum!” but the others declare<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was only a breeze that went by.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“THEN, SILENCE”</small></p> +<p> </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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the Snark <i>was</i> a Boojum, you see.</span></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </p><p> </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> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i193.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </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—</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 “If that ruffian Jones<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should recognise me here,</span><br /> +He’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).”<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’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’ve found some charming fair,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And vowed to die or win her,</span><br /> +The wretch (he’s thin and I am stout)<br /> +Is sure to come and cut me out!</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“HE’S THIN AND I AM STOUT”</small></p> +<p> </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 “He is so sleek and slim,<br /> +It’s quite a treat to look at him!”<br /> +<br /> +They vanish in tobacco smoke,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those visionary maids—</span><br /> +I feel a sharp and sudden poke<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Between the shoulder-blades—</span><br /> +“Why, Brown, my boy! You’re growing stout!”<br /> +(I told you he would find me out!)<br /> +<br /> +“My growth is not <i>your</i> business, Sir!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“No more it is, my boy!</span><br /> +But if it’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 /> +“It’s hardly safe, though, talking here—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I’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!”—</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><br /> +Insult me thus because I’m stout!<br /> +I vow I’ll go and call him out!</td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i197.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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, ’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 “She had heard all that nonsense before.”<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">She’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’d done up her hair in the style that the Empress had brought into fashion.</td></tr></table> + +<p> </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> </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—</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 “the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn’t abide that Dundreary.”<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then I thought “’Tis for me</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">That she whines and she whimpers!”</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 “This is scrumptious!”—a phrase I had learned from the Devonshire shrimpers.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And I vowed “’Twill be said</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I’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!”<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—</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 “’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’s prime,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While thou waitest and weepest?</span><br /> +Let us settle it, License or Banns?—though undoubtedly Banns are the cheapest.”<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Ah, my Hero,” said I,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“Let me be thy Leander!”</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But I lost her reply—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Something ending with “gander”—</span><br /> +For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could quite understand her.</td></tr></table> + + +<p> </p><p> </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’.</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’ 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 /> +“There’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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +Then up and spake the popinjay<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That flew abune her head:</span><br /> +“Gae let him in that tirls the pin:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He cometh thee to wed.”</span><br /> +<br /> +O when he cam’ 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 /> +“And dinna ye ken your lover agen,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sae well that loveth thee?”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i203.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>“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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +Said—“Ladye dear,” and the salt, salt tear<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cam’ rinnin’ doon his cheek,</span><br /> +“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 /> +“O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The rings o’ 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.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“They cam’ to me,” said that fair ladye.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Wow, they were flimsie things!”</span><br /> +Said—“that chain o’ gowd, my doggie to howd,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It is made o’ thae self-same rings.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“And didna ye get the locks, the locks,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The locks o’ 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?”</span><br /> +<br /> +“They cam’ to me,” said that fair ladye;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“And I prithee send nae mair!”</span><br /> +Said—“that cushion sae red, for my doggie’s head,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It is stuffed wi’ thae locks o’ hair.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tied wi’ 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?”</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><br /> +“It cam’ to me frae the far countrie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi’ its silken string and a’;</span><br /> +But it wasna prepaid,” said that high-born maid,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Sae I gar’d them tak’ it awa’.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“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’.”</span><br /> +<br /> +Then up and spake the popinjay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sae wisely counselled he.</span><br /> +“Now say it in the proper way:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gae doon upon thy knee!”</span><br /> +<br /> +The lover he turned baith red and pale,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Went doon upon his knee:</span><br /> +“O Ladye, hear the waesome tale<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That must be told to thee!</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“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 /> +“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 /> +“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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O Ladye, gie me thy hand!”</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 /> +“Sic’ a coortin’ as yours, my man,” she said<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Takes a lang and a weary while!”</span><br /> +<br /> +And out and laughed the popinjay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A laugh of bitter scorn:</span><br /> +“A coortin’ done in sic’ a way,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It ought not to be borne!”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“AND OUT AND LAUGHED THE POPINJAY”</small></p> +<p> </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’ 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’ gowd,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All for to bite the man.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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!”</span><br /> +<br /> +Aye louder screamed that ladye fair<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To drown her doggie’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’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’ a din the parlour within<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As made them much admire.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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>“O HUSH THEE, GENTLE POPINJAY!”</small></p> +<p> </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 /> +“Now wha will tae the parlour gae,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And stay this deadlie din?”</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 /> +“Gae in,” they cried, “whate’er betide,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou prince of button-boys!”</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—<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> </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>“THE DOGGIE CEASED HIS NOISE”</small></p> +<p> </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’ a frown upon her brow:</span><br /> +“O dearer to me is my sma’ doggie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Than a dozen sic’ as thou!</span><br /> +<br /> +“Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nae use at all to fret:</span><br /> +Sin’ ye’ve bided sae well for thirty years,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ye may bide a wee langer yet!”</span><br /> +<br /> +Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And tirlëd at the pin:</span><br /> +Sadly went he through the door<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where sadly he cam’ in.</span><br /> +<br /> +“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 /> +“O gin I find anither ladye,”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He said wi’ sighs and tears,</span><br /> +“I wot my coortin’ 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 /> +“For gin I find a ladye gay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Exactly to my taste,</span><br /> +I’ll pop the question, aye or nay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In twenty years at maist.”</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i213.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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—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 +Cyclopædia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each +subsequent stanza one of the cross “lights.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.”]</p></div> + +<p> </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 “Step inside, my lad,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And then you’ll see it all.”</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>⁄<span style="font-size: 0.6em;">3</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +But something whispered “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!”</span><br /> +<br /> +A change came o’er my Vision—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—<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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Photographers love such.</span><br /> +<br /> +There comes a welcome summons—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—</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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“Oh, Uncle, what’s o’clock?”</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—yet out of it, methinks,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">No words of wisdom flow.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p> </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’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’erthrown,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!</span><br /> +“Doubt that the stars are fire,” so runs his moan,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!”</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> </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’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 /> +“Leave us not thus!” we fondly pray.<br /> +“We cannot let thee pass away!”<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, well-a-day!</span></td></tr></table> + + +<p> </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—<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—<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’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’s pen<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To paint her myriad phases:</span><br /> +The monarch, and the slave, of men—<br /> +A mountain-summit, and a den<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of dark and deadly mazes—</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><br /> +A flashing light—a fleeting shade—<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> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> +<h2>FAME’S PENNY-TRUMPET.</h2> + +<p class="center">[Affectionately dedicated to all “original researchers” who pant for “endowment.”]</p> + +<p> </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—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals!</span><br /> +<br /> +Fill all the air with hungry wails—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“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!”</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—plead with tears<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That Love and Mercy should abound—</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—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’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> </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>“GO, THRONG EACH OTHER’S DRAWING-ROOMS”</small></p> +<p> </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’s little heads<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With mutual Flattery’s golden slime:</span><br /> +<br /> +And when the topmost height ye gain,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And stand in Glory’s ether clear,</span><br /> +And grasp the prize of all your pain—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So many hundred pounds a year—</span><br /> +<br /> +Then let Fame’s banner be unfurled!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sing Pæans 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—</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> </p> +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="note"><p class="right">[TURN OVER.</p></div> +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> + + + +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<div class="adverts"> +<h2>WORKS BY LEWIS CARROLL.</h2> + +<p class="hang">ALICE’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—into French, by <span class="smcap">Henri Bué</span>—into German, by +<span class="smcap">Antonie Zimmermann</span>—and into Italian, by <span class="smcap">T. Pietrocòla Rossetti</span>—with +<span class="smcap">Tenniel’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 “Phantasmagoria and other Poems,” and of “The Hunting +of the Snark.” Mr. Frost’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 “<span class="smcap">An Easter Greeting</span>” (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 & CO., LONDON.</p> +<p class="center">LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.</p></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </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’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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYME? 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