Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat!

" it
was at the great concert given by the

Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

`Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!

How I wonder what you're at!'You know the song, perhaps?" "I've heard something
like it," said Alice. "It goes on, you know," the Hatter continued,
"in this way:


`Up above the world you fly,

Like a teatray in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle '"

The Sea

There are certain things a
spider, a ghost,
The incometax,
gout, an umbrella for three That
I hate, but the thing that I hate the most
Is a thing they call the SEA.


Pour some salt water over the floor Ugly
I'm sure you'll allow it to be:
Suppose it extended a mile or more,
That's very like the SEA.


Beat a dog till it howls outright Cruel,
but all very well for a spree;
Suppose that one did so day and night,
That would be like the SEA.


I had a vision of nurserymaids;
Tens of thousands passed by me All
leading children with wooden spades,
And this was by the SEA.


Who invented those spades of wood?
Who was it cut them out of the tree?
None, I think, but an idiot could Or
one that loved the SEA.


It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float
With `thoughts as boundless, and souls as free';
But suppose you are very unwell in a boat,
How do you like the SEA.


There is an insect that people avoid
(Whence is derived the verb `to flee')
Where have you been by it most annoyed?
In lodgings by the SEA.


If you like coffee with sand for dregs,
A decided hint of salt in your tea,
And a fishy taste in the very eggs By
all means choose the SEA.


And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,
You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
Then I
recommend the SEA.


For I have friends who dwell by the coast,
Pleasant friends they are to me!
It is when I'm with them I wonder most
That anyone likes the SEA.


They take me a walk: though tired and stiff,
To climb the heights I madly agree:



And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,
They kindly suggest the SEA.


I try the rocks, and I think it cool
That they laugh with such an excess of glee,
As I heavily slip into every pool,
That skirts the cold, cold SEA.

The Voice of the Lobster

''Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.'


'I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panter were sharing a pie:
The Panther took piecrust,
and gravy, and meat,
While the Old had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by [eating the owl.]

The Mad Gardener's Song

He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
'At length I realise,' he said,
The bitterness of Life!'


He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimneypiece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
'Unless you leave this house,' he said,
'I'll send for the Police!'


He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
'The one thing I regret,' he said,
'Is that it cannot speak!'


He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
'If this should stay to dine,' he said,
'There won't be much for us!'


He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a coffeemill:
He looked again, and found it was
A VegetablePill.
'Were I to swallow this,' he said,
'I should be very ill!'


He thought he saw a CoachandFour
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!'


He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered round the lamp:
He looked again, and found it was
A PennyPostage
Stamp.
'You'd best be getting home,' he said:
'The nights are very damp!'


He thought he saw a GardenDoor
That opened with a key:
He looked again, and found it was



A Double Rule of Three:
'And all its mystery,' he said,
'Is clear as day to me!'


He thought he saw a Argument
That proved he was the Pope:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bar of Mottled Soap.
'A fact so dread,' he faintly said,
'Extinguishes all hope!'

The Palace of Humbug

Lays of Mystery,
Imagination, and Humor


Number 1


I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls,
And each damp thing that creeps and crawls
Went wobblewobble
on the walls.


Faint odours of departed cheese,
Blown on the dank, unwholesome breeze,
Awoke the never ending sneeze.


Strange pictures decked the arras drear,
Strange characters of woe and fear,
The humbugs of the social sphere.


One showed a vain and noisy prig,
That shouted empty words and big
At him that nodded in a wig.


And one, a dotard grim and gray,
Who wasteth childhood's happy day
In work more profitless than play.


Whose icy breast no pity warms,
Whose little victims sit in swarms,
And slowly sob on lower forms.


And one, a green thymehonoured
Bank,
Where flowers are growing wild and rank,
Like weeds that fringe a poisoned tank.


All birds of evil omen there
Flood with rich Notes the tainted air,
The witless wanderer to snare.


The fatal Notes neglected fall,
No creature heeds the treacherous call,
For all those goodly Strawn Baits Pall.


The wandering phantom broke and fled,
Straightway I saw within my head
A vision of a ghostly bed,


Where lay two worn decrepit men,
The fictions of a lawyer's pen,
Who never more might breathe again.


The servingman
of Richard Roe
Wept, inarticulate with woe:
She wept, that waiting on John Doe.



"Oh rouse", I urged, "the waning sense
With tales of tangled evidence,
Of suit, demurrer, and defence."


"Vain", she replied, "such mockeries:
For morbid fancies, such as these,
No suits can suit, no plea can please."


And bending o'er that man of straw,
She cried in grief and sudden awe,
Not inappropriately, "Law!"


The wellremembered
voice he knew,
He smiled, he faintly muttered "Sue!"
(Her very name was legal too.)


The night was fled, the dawn was nigh:
A hurricane went raving by,
And swept the Vision from mine eye.


Vanished that dim and ghostly bed,
(The hangings, tape; the tape was red happy
'Tis o'er, and Doe and Roe are dead!


Oh, yet my spirit inly crawls,
What time it shudderingly recalls
That horrid dream of marble halls!

The Hunting of the Snark

Fit the First
THE LANDING


'Just the place for a Snark!' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.


'Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What i tell you three times is true.'


The crew was complete: it included a BootsA
maker of Bonnets and HoodsA
Barrister, brought to arrange their disputesAnd
a Broker, to value their goods.


A Billiardmaker,
whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his shareBut
a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
Had the whole of their cash in his care.


There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
Though none of the sailors knew how.


There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
And the clothes he had bought for the trip.


He had fortytwo
boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.


The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of bootsbut
the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.


He would answer to 'Hi!' or to any loud cry,
Such as 'Fry me!' or 'Fritter my wig!'
To 'Whatyoumaycallum!'
or 'Whatwashisname!'
But especially 'Thingumajig!'


While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:
His intimate friends called him 'Candleends,'
And his enemies 'Toastedcheese.'



'His form in ungainlyhis
intellect small'
(So the Bellman would often remark)
'But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,
Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.'


He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare
With an impudent wag of the head:
And he once went a walk, pawinpaw,
with a bear,
'Just to keep up its spirits,' he said.


He came as a Baker: but owned, when too lateAnd
it drove the poor Bellman halfmadHe
could only bake Bridecakefor
which, I may state,
No materials were to be had.


The last of the crew needs especial remark,
Though he looked an incredible dunce:
He had just one ideabut,
that one being 'Snark,'
The good Bellman engaged him at once.


He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
When the ship had been sailing a week,
He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,
And was almost too frightened to speak:


But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
There was only one Beaver on board;
And that was a tame one he had of his own,
Whose death would be deeply deplored.


The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
Protested, with tears in its eyes,
That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
Could atone for that dismal surprise!


It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
Conveyed in a separate ship:
But the Bellman declared that would never agree
With the plans he had made for the trip:


Navigation was always a difficult art,
Though with only one ship and one bell:
And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
Undertaking another as well.


The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure
A secondhand
daggerproof
coatSo
the Baker advised itand
next, to insure
Its life in some Office of note:


This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire



(On moderate terms), or for sale,
Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
And one Against Damage From Hail.


Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
Whenever the Butcher was by,
The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
And appeared unaccountably shy.


Fit the Second
THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH


The Bellman himself they all praised to the skiesSuch
a carriage, such ease and such grace!
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
The moment one looked in his face!


He had bought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.


'What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?'
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
'They are merely conventional signs!


'Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we've got our brave Captain to thank:
(So the crew would protest) 'that he's bought us the bestA
perfect and absolute blank!'


This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
That the Captain they trusted so well
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
And that was to tingle his bell.


He was thoughtful and gravebut
the orders he gave
Were enough to bewilder a crew.
When he cried 'Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!'
What on earth was the helmsman to do?


Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
That frequently happens in tropical climes,
When a vessel is, so to speak, 'snarked.'


But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
That the ship would not travel due West!



But the danger was pastthey
had landed at last,
With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
Which consisted to chasms and crags.


The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
And repeated in musical tone
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woeBut
the crew would do nothing but groan.


He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
And bade them sit down on the beach:
And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
As he stood and delivered his speech.


'Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!'
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).


'We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!


'We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!


'Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.


'Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meager and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavor of Willothewisp.


'Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at fiveo'clock
tea,
And dines on the following day.


'The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.


'The fourth is its fondness for bathingmachines,



Which is constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenesA
sentiment open to doubt.


'The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
And those that have whiskers, and scratch.


'For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums'
The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.


Fit the Third
THE BAKER'S TALE


They roused him with muffinsthey
roused him with iceThey
roused him with mustard and cressThey
roused him with jam and judicious adviceThey
set him conundrums to guess.


When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
His sad story he offered to tell;
And the Bellman cried 'Silence! Not even a shriek!'
And excitedly tingled his bell.


There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,
Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
As the man they called 'Ho!' told his story of woe
In an antediluvian tone.


'My father and mother were honest, though poor'
'Skip all that!' cried the Bellman in haste.
'If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a SnarkWe
have hardly a minute to waste!'


'I skip forty years,' said the Baker, in tears,
'And proceed without further remark
To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
To help you in hunting the Snark.


'A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
Remarked, when I bade him farewell'
'Oh, skip your dear uncle!' the Bellman exclaimed,
As he angrily tingled his bell.


'He remarked to me then,' said that mildest of men,
' 'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
Fetch it home by all meansyou
may serve it with greens,
And it's handy for striking a light.



' 'You may seek it with thimblesand
seek it with care;
You may hunt it with forks and hope;
You may threaten its life with a railwayshare;
You may charm it with smiles and soap'
'


('That's exactly the method,' the Bellman bold
In a hasty parenthesis cried,
'That's exactly the way I have always been told
That the capture of Snarks should be tried!')


' 'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
If your Snark be a Boojum! For then
You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
And never be met with again!'


'It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
When I think of my uncle's last words:
And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
Brimming over with quivering curds!


'It is this, it is this'
'We have had that before!'
The Bellman indignantly said.
And the Baker replied 'Let me say it once more.
It is this, it is this that I dread!


'I engage with the Snarkevery
night after darkIn
a dreamy delirious fight:
I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
And I use it for striking a light:


'But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
In a moment (of this I am sure),
I shall softly and suddenly vanish awayAnd
the notion I cannot endure!'


Fit the fourth
THE HUNTING


The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
'If only you'd spoken before!
It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!


'We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
If you never were met with againBut
surely, my man, when the voyage began,
You might have suggested it then?


'It's excessively awkward to mention it nowAs
I think I've already remarked.'



And the man they called 'Hi!' replied, with a sigh,
'I informed you the day we embarked.


'You may charge me with murderor
want of sense(
We are all of us weak at times):
But the slightest approach to a false pretense
Was never among my crimes!


'I said it in HebrewI
said it in DutchI
said it in German and Greek:
But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
That English is what you speak!'


''Tis a pitiful tale,' said the Bellman, whose face
Had grown longer at every word:
'But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,
More debate would be simply absurd.


'The rest of my speech' (he explained to his men)
'You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it.
But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
'Tis your glorious duty to seek it!


'To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
To pursue it with forks and hope;
To threaten its life with a railwayshare;
To charm it with smiles and soap!


'For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't
Be caught in a commonplace way.
Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:
Not a chance must be wasted today!


'For England expectsI
forbear to proceed:
'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need
To rig yourselves out for the fight.'


Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),
And changed his loose silver for notes.
The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
And shook the dust out of his coats.


The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spadeEach
working the grindstone in turn:
But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
No interest in the concern:


Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
And vainly proceeded to cite
A number of cases, in which making laces
Had been proved an infringement of right.



The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
A novel arrangement of bows:
While the Billiardmarker
with quivering hand
Was chalking the tip of his nose.


But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
With yellow kid gloves and a ruffSaid
he felt it exactly like going to dine,
Which the Bellman declared was all 'stuff.'


'Introduce me, now there's a good fellow,' he said,
'If we happen to meet it together!'
And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
Said 'That must depend on the weather.'


The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
At seeing the Butcher so shy:
And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
Made an effort to wink with one eye.


'Be a man!' said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
The Butcher beginning to sob.
'Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
We shall need all our strength for the job!'


Fit the Fifth
THE BEAVER'S LESSON


They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railwayshare;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.


Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
For making a separate sally;
And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
A dismal and desolate valley.


But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
It had chosen the very same place:
Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
The disgust that appeared in his face.


Each thought he was thinking of nothing but 'Snark'
And the glorious work of the day;
And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
That the other was going that way.


But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
And the evening got darker and colder,



Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)
They marched along shoulder to shoulder.


Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
And they knew that some danger was near:
The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
And even the Butcher felt queer.


He thought of his childhood, left far far behindThat
blissful and innocent stateThe
sound so exactly recalled to his mind
A pencil that squeaks on a slate!


''Tis the voice of the Jubjub!' he suddenly cried.
(This man, that they used to call 'Dunce.')
'As the Bellman would tell you,' he added with pride,
'I have uttered that sentiment once.


''Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
You will find I have told it you twice.
'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
If only I've stated it thrice.'


The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
Attending to every word:
But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
When the third repetition occurred.


It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
It had somehow contrived to lose count,
And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
By reckoning up the amount.


'Two added to oneif
that could but be done,'
It said, 'with one's fingers and thumbs!'
Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
It had taken no pains with its sums.


'The thing can be done,' said the Butcher, 'I think.
The thing must be done, I am sure.
The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,
The best there is time to procure.'


The Beaver brought paper,portfolio, pens,
And ink in unfailing supplies:
While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
And watched them with wondering eyes.


So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
And explained all the while in a popular style
Which the Beaver could well understand.



'Taking Three as the subject to reason aboutA
convenient number to stateWe
add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
By One Thousand diminished by Eight.


'The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
By Nine Hundred and Ninety Two:
Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
Exactly and perfectly true.


'The method employed I would gladly explain,
While I have it so clear in my head,
If I had but the time and you had but the brainBut
much yet remains to be said.


'In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been
Enveloped in absolute mystery,
And without extra charge I will give you at large
A Lesson in Natural History.'


In his genial way he proceeded to say
(Forgetting all laws of propriety,
And that giving instruction, without introduction,
Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),


'As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
Since it lives in perpetual passion:
Its taste in costume is entirely absurdIt
is ages ahead of the fashion:


'But it knows any friend it has met once before:
It never will look at a bride:
And in charitymeetings
it stands at the door,
And collectsthough
it does not subscribe.


' Its flavor when cooked is more exquisite far
Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
And some, in mahogany kegs:)


'You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
You condense it with locusts and tape:
Still keeping one principal object in viewTo
preserve its symmetrical shape.'


The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
But he felt that the lesson must end,
And he wept with delight in attempting to say
He considered the Beaver his friend.


While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks



More eloquent even than tears,
It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
Would have taught it in seventy years.


They returned handinhand,
and the Bellman, unmanned
(For a moment) with noble emotion,
Said 'This amply repays all the wearisome days
We have spent on the billowy ocean!'


Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
Have seldom if ever been known;
In winter or summer, 'twas always the sameYou
could never meet either alone.


And when quarrels aroseas
one frequently finds
Quarrels will, spite of every endeavorThe
song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
And cemented their friendship for ever!


Fit the Sixth
THE BARRISTER'S DREAM


They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railwayshare;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.


But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
That the Beaver's lacemaking
was wrong,
Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
That his fancy had dwelt on so long.


He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
On the charge of deserting its sty.


The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
That the sty was deserted when found:
And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
In a soft undercurrent
of sound.


The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
What the pig was supposed to have done.


The Jury had each formed a different view
(Long before the indictment was read),
And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
One word that the others had said.



'You must know '
said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed 'Fudge!'
That statute is obsolete quite!
Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
On an ancient manorial right.


'In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
If you grant the plea 'never indebted.'


'The fact of Desertion I will not dispute;
But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
(So far as related to the costs of this suit)
By the Alibi which has been proved.


'My poor client's fate now depends on you votes.'
Here the speaker sat down in his place,
And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
And briefly to sum up the case.


But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
So the Snark undertook it instead,
And summed it so well that it came to far more
Than the Witnesses ever had said!


When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
As the word was so puzzling to spell;
But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn't mind
Undertaking that duty as well.


So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
It was spent with the toils of the day:
When it said the word 'GUILTY!' the Jury all groaned,
And some of them fainted away.


Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
Too nervous to utter a word:
When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
And the fall of a pin might be heard.


'Transportation for lift' was the sentence it gave,
'And *then* to be fined forty pound.'
The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
That the phrase was not legally sound.


But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
When the jailer informed them, with tears,
Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,
As the pig had been dead for some years.


The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:



But the Snark, though a little aghast,
As the lawyer to whom the defense was entrusted,
Went bellowing on to the last.


Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
To grow every moment more clear:
Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.


Fit the Seventh
THE BANKER'S FATE


They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railwayshare;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.


And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
It was matter for general remark,
Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
In his zeal to discover the Snark


But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
For he knew it was useless to fly.


He offered large discounthe
offered a check
(Drawn 'to bearer') for sevenpoundsten:
But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
And grabbed at the Banker again.


Without rest or pausewhile
those frumious jaws
Went savagely snapping aroundHe
skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
Till fainting he fell to the ground.


The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
Led on by that fearstricken
yell:
And the Bellman remarked 'It is just as I feared!'
And solemnly tolled on his bell.


He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
The least likeness to what he had been:
While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned whiteA
wonderful thing to be seen!


To the horror of all who were present that day.
He uprose in full evening dress,
And with senseless grimaces endeavored to say
What his tongue could no longer express.



Down he sank in a chairran
his hands through his hairAnd
chanted in mimsiest tones
Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
While he rattled a couple of bones.


'Leave him here to his fateit
is getting so late!'
The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
'We have lost half the day. Any further delay,
And we sha'nt catch a Snark before night!'


Fit the Eighth
THE VANISHING


They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railwayshare;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.


They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
And the Beaver, excited at last,
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
For the daylight was nearly past.


'There is Thingumbob shouting!' the Bellman said,
'He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
He has certainly found a Snark!'


They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
'He was always a desperate wag!'
They beheld himtheir
Bakertheir
hero unnamedOn
the top of a neighboring crag.


Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
In the next, that wild figure they saw
(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
While they waited and listened in awe.


'It's a Snark!' was the sound that first came to their ears,
And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
Then the ominous words 'It's a Boo'


Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
Then sounded like 'jum!'
but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.


They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not a button, or feather, or mark,



By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.


In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished awayFor
the Snark *was* a Boojum, you see.

The Lang Coortin'

The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
Wi' her doggie at her feet;
Thorough the lattice she can spy
The passers in the street,


'There's one that standeth at the door,
And tirleth at the pin:
Now speak and say, my popinjay,
If I sall let him in.'


Then up and spake the popinjay
That flew abune her head:
'Gae let him in that tirls the pin:
He cometh thee to wed.'


O when he cam' the parlour in,
A woeful man was he!
'And dinna ye ken your lover agen,
Sae well that loveth thee?'


'And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir,
That have been sae lang away?
And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir?
Ye never telled me sae.'


Said '
Ladye dear,' and the salt, salt tear
Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek,
'I have sent the tokens of my love
This many and many a week.


'O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,
The rings o' the gowd sae fine?
I wot that I have sent to thee
Four score, four score and nine.'


'They cam' to me,' said that fair ladye.
'Wow, they were flimsie things!'
Said '
that chain o' gowd, my doggie to howd,
It is made o' thae selfsame
rings.'


'And didna ye get the locks, the locks,
The locks o' my ain black hair,
Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,
Whilk I sent by the carrier?'


'They cam' to me,' said that fair ladye;
'And I prithee send nae mair!'
Said '
that cushion sae red, for my doggie's head,
It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair.'


'And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,
Tied wi' a silken string,



Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,
A message of love to bring?'


'It cam' to me frae the far countrie
Wi' its silken string and a';
But it wasna prepaid,' said that highborn
maid,
'Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'.'


'O ever alack that ye sent it back,
It was written sae clerkly and well!
Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,
I must even say it mysel'.'


Then up and spake the popinjay,
Sae wisely counselled he.
'Now say it in the proper way:
Gae doon upon thy knee!'


The lover he turned baith red and pale,
Went doon upon his knee:
'O Ladye, hear the waesome tale
That must be told to thee!


'For five lang years, and five lang years,
I coorted thee by looks;
By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,
As I had read in books.


'For ten lang years, O weary hours!
I coorted thee by signs;
By sending game, by sending flowers,
By sending Valentines.


'For five lang years, and five lang years,
I have dwelt in the far countrie,
Till that thy mind should be inclined
Mair tenderly to me.


'Now thirty years are gane and past,
I am come frae a foreign land:
I am come to tell thee my love at last O
Ladye, gie me thy hand!'


The ladye she turned not pale nor red,
But she smiled a pitiful smile:
'Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man,' she said
'Takes a lang and a weary while!'


And out and laughed the popinjay,
A laugh of bitter scorn:
'A coortin' done in sic' a way,
It ought not to be borne!'



Wi' that the doggie barked aloud,
And up and doon he ran,
And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd,
All for to bite the man.


'O hush thee, gentle popinjay!
O hush thee, doggie dear!
There is a word I fain wad say,
It needeth he should hear!'


Aye louder screamed that ladye fair
To drown her doggie's bark:
Ever the lover shouted mair
To make that ladye hark:


Shrill and more shrill the popinjay
Upraised his angry squall:
I trow the doggie's voice that day
Was louder than them all!


The servingmen
and servingmaids
Sat by the kitchen fire:
They heard sic' a din the parlour within
As made them much admire.


Out spake the boy in buttons
(I ween he wasna thin),
'Now wha will tae the parlour gae,
And stay this deadlie din?'


And they have taen a kerchief,
Casted their kevils in,
For wha will tae the parlour gae,
And stay that deadlie din.


When on that boy the kevil fell
To stay the fearsome noise,
'Gae in,' they cried, 'whate'er betide,
Thou prince of buttonboys!'


Syne, he has taen a supple cane
To swinge that dog sae fat:
The doggie yowled, the doggie howled
The louder aye for that.


Syne, he has taen a muttonbane
The
doggie ceased his noise,
And followed doon the kitchen stair
That prince of buttonboys!


Then sadly spake that ladye fair,



Wi' a frown upon her brow:
'O dearer to me is my sma' doggie
Than a dozen sic' as thou!


'Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:
Nae use at all to fret:
Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years,
Ye may bide a wee langer yet!'


Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor
And tirled at the pin:
Sadly went he through the door
Where sadly he cam' in.


'O gin I had a popinjay
To fly abune my head,
To tell me what I ought to say,
I had by this been wed.


'O gin I find anither ladye,'
He said wi' sighs and tears,
'I wot my coortin' sall not be
Anither thirty years


'For gin I find a ladye gay,
Exactly to my taste,
I'll pop the question, aye or nay,
In twenty years at maist.'

The Aged Aged Man

I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
Asitting
on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,
"And how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.


He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into muttonpies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread—
A trifle; if you please."


But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"
And thumped him on the head.


His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountainrill,
I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's MacassarOil&
mdash;
Yet twopencehalfpenny
is all
They give me for my toil."


But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!"


He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,



And that will purchase nine.


"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansomcabs.
And that's the way" (he gave a wink)
"By which I get my wealth—
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health."


I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.


And now, if e'er by chance I put
My fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a righthand
foot
Into a lefthand
shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know—
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo—
That summer evening long ago
Asitting
on a gate.

Speak Roughly to Your Little Boy

And with that she
began nursing her child again, singing a sort of
lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a violent
shake at the end of every line:


"Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes;
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases."CHORUS


(in which the cook and the baby joined): "
Wow! wow! wow!"While the Duchess
sang the second verse of
the song, she kept tossing the baby violently up
and down, and the poor little thing howled so,
that Alice could hardly hear the words:


"I speak severely to my boy,
I beat him when he sneezes;
For he can thoroughly enjoy
The pepper when he pleases!" CHORUS"Wow! wow! wow!"

She's All My Fancy Painted Him

She's all my fancy painted him
(I make no idle boast);
If he or you had lost a limb,
Which would have suffered most?


He said that you had been to her,
And seen me here before;
But, in another character,
She was the same of yore.


There was not one that spoke to us,
Of all that thronged the street:
So he sadly got into a 'bus,
And pattered with his feet.


They sent him word I had not gone
(We know it to be true);
If she should push the matter on,
What would become of you?


They gave her one, the gave me two,
They gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.


If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.


It seemed to me that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle, that came between
Him, and ourselves, and it.


Don't let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
Between yourself and me.