The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
“If only you’d
spoken before!
It’s excessively awkward to mention it now,
With the Snark, so to
speak, at the door!
“We should all of us grieve, as you well may
believe,
If you never were met
with again—
But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
You might have suggested
it then?
“It’s excessively awkward to mention it
now—
As I think I’ve
already remarked.”
And the man they called “Hi!” replied,
with a sigh,
“I informed you
the day we embarked.
“You may charge me with murder—or
want of sense—
(We are all of us weak
at times):
But the slightest approach to a false pretence
Was never among my crimes!
“I said it in Hebrew—I said it in
Dutch—
I said it in German
and Greek:
But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
That English is what
you speak!”
“’Tis a pitiful tale,” said the
Bellman, whose face
Had grown longer at
every word:
“But, now that you’ve stated the whole
of your case,
More debate would be
simply absurd.
“The rest of my speech” (he explained
to his men)
“You shall hear
when I’ve leisure to speak it.
But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
’Tis your glorious
duty to seek it!
“To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
To pursue it with forks
and hope;
To threaten its life with a railway-share;
To charm it with smiles
and soap!
“For the Snark’s a peculiar creature,
that won’t
Be caught in a commonplace
way.
Do all that you know, and try all that you don’t:
Not a chance must be
wasted to-day!
“For England expects—I forbear to
proceed:
’Tis a maxim tremendous,
but trite:
And you’d best be unpacking the things that
you need
To rig yourselves out
for the fight.”
Then the Banker endorsed a blank cheque (which he
crossed),
And changed his loose
silver for notes.
The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
And shook the dust out
of his coats.
The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade—
Each working the grindstone
in turn:
But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
No interest in the concern:
Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
And vainly proceeded
to cite
A number of cases, in which making laces
Had been proved an infringement
of right.
The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
A novel arrangement
of bows:
While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
Was chalking the tip
of his nose.
But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself
fine,
With yellow kid gloves
and a ruff—
Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
Which the Bellman declared
was all “stuff.”