They roused him with muffins—they roused him with
ice—
They roused him
with mustard and cress—
They roused him with jam and judicious
advice—
They set him
conundrums to guess.
When at length he sat up and was able to
speak,
His sad story he
offered to tell;
And the Bellman cried “Silence! Not even a
shriek!”
And excitedly
tingled his bell.
There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a
scream,
Scarcely even a
howl or a groan,
As the man they called “Ho!” told his story of
woe
In an antediluvian
tone.
“My father and mother were honest, though
poor—”
“Skip all that!”
cried the Bellman in haste.
“If it once becomes dark, there’s no chance
of a Snark—
We have
hardly a minute to waste!”
“I skip forty years,” said the Baker, in
tears,
“And proceed
without further remark
To the day when you took me aboard of your
ship
To help you in
hunting the Snark.
“A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was
named)
Remarked, when I
bade him farewell—”
“Oh, skip your dear uncle!” the Bellman
exclaimed,
As he
angrily tingled his bell.
“He remarked to me then,” said that
mildest of
men,
“ ‘If your
Snark be a Snark, that is right:
Fetch it home by all means—you may
serve it with
greens,
And it’s handy
for striking a light.
“ ‘You may seek it with thimbles—and
seek it with care;
You
may hunt it with forks and hope;
You may threaten its life with a
railway-share;
You may
charm it with smiles and soap—’ ”
(“That’s exactly the
method,” the Bellman
bold
In a hasty
parenthesis cried,
“That’s exactly the way I have always been
told
That the capture
of Snarks should be tried!”)
“ ‘But oh, beamish nephew, beware
of the day,
If your
Snark be a Boojum! For then
You will softly and suddenly vanish
away,
And never be met
with again!’
“It is this, it is this that oppresses my
soul,
When I think of
my uncle’s last words:
And my heart is like nothing so much as a
bowl
Brimming over with
quivering curds!
“It is this, it is this—” “We have had that
before!”
The Bellman
indignantly said.
And the Baker replied “Let me say it once
more.
It is this, it is
this that I dread!
“I engage with the Snark—every night after
dark—
In a dreamy
delirious fight:
I serve it with greens in those shadowy
scenes,
And I use it
for striking a light:
“But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that
day,
In a moment (of
this I am sure),
I shall softly and suddenly vanish
away—
And the notion I
cannot endure!” |
|
