“Just the place for a Snark!” the Bellman
cried,
As he landed his
crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the
tide
By a finger
entwined in his hair.
“Just the place for a Snark! I have said it
twice:
That alone
should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it
thrice:
What I tell you
three times is true.”
The crew was complete: it included a
Boots—
A maker of
Bonnets and Hoods—
A Barrister, brought to arrange their
disputes—
And a Broker,
to value their goods.
A Billiard-marker, whose skill was
immense,
Might perhaps
have won more than his share—
But a Banker, engaged at enormous
expense,
Had the whole
of their cash in his care.
There was also a Beaver, that paced on
the deck,
Or would sit
making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them
from wreck,
Though none
of the sailors knew how.
There was one who was famed for the number
of things
He forgot
when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and
rings,
And the clothes
he had bought for the trip.
He had forty-two boxes, all carefully
packed,
With his name
painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the
fact,
They were all
left behind on the beach.
The loss of his clothes hardly mattered,
because
He had seven
coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots—but 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 “What-you-may-call-um!” or
“What-was-his-name!”
But
especially “Thing-um-a-jig!”
While, for those who preferred a more
forcible word,
He had
different names from these:
His intimate friends called him
“Candle-ends,”
And his
enemies “Toasted-cheese.”
“His form is ungainly—his intellect
small—”
(So the Bellman
would often remark)
“But his courage is perfect! And that, after
all,
Is the thing that
one needs with a Snark.”
He would joke with hyenas, returning their
stare
With an impudent
wag of the head:
And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a
bear,
“Just to keep up
its spirits,” he said.
He came as a Baker: but owned, when too
late—
And it drove the
poor Bellman half-mad—
He could only bake Bridecake—for which, I may
state,
No materials
were to be had.
The last of the crew needs especial
remark,
Though he
looked an incredible dunce:
He had just one idea—but, that one being
“Snark,”
The good
Bellman engaged him at once.
He came as a Butcher: but gravely
declared,
When the ship
had been sailing a week,
He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked
scared,
And was almost
too frightened to speak:
But at length he explained, in a tremulous
tone,
There was only
one Beaver on board;
And that was a tame one he had of his
own,
Whose death would
be deeply deplored.
The Beaver, who happened to hear the
remark,
Protested, with
tears in its eyes,
That not even the rapture of hunting the
Snark
Could atone for
that dismal surprise!
It strongly advised that the Butcher should
be
Conveyed in a
separate ship:
But the Bellman declared that would never
agree
With the plans he
had made for the trip:
Navigation was always a difficult
art,
Though with only
one ship and one bell:
And he feared he must really decline, for his
part,
Undertaking
another as well.
The Beaver’s best course was, no doubt, to
procure
A second-hand
dagger-proof coat—
So the Baker advised it—and next, to
insure
Its life in some
Office of note:
This the Banker suggested, and offered for
hire
(On moderate
terms), or for sale,
Two excellent Policies, one Against
Fire,
And one Against
Damage From Hail.
Yet still, ever after that sorrowful
day,
Whenever the
Butcher was by,
The Beaver kept looking the opposite
way,
And appeared
unaccountably shy. |
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