modified from eBooks@Adelaide
2007
2009-01-20, Götz Kluge added: Easter Greeting, Carroll's dedication to Gertrude Chataway,
line numbering and better images.
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based on artwork by C. Martens & T. Landseer, H. Holiday & J. Swain.)
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(Modifications:
Carroll's dedication to Gertrude Chataway,
Easter Greeting
Source of original file:
eBooks@Adelaide
The University of Adelaide Library
University of Adelaide
South Australia 5005
DEAR CHILD,
Please to fancy, if you can, that you are reading a real letter, from a real friend whom you have seen, and whose voice you can seem to yourself to hear wishing you, as I do now with all my heart, a happy Easter.
Do you know that delicious dreamy feeling when one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at the open window —when, lying lazily with eyes half shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very near to sadness, bringing tears to one's eyes like a beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a Mother's gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a Mother's sweet voice that summons you to rise? To rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you so when all was dark —to rise and enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that unseen Friend, who sends you the beautiful sun?
Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as "Alice"? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame me for thus mixing together things grave and gay; others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on a Sunday: but I think —nay, I am sure —that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it.
For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves —to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out-of-place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer —and that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the children, as they roll among the hay? Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest anthem that ever rolled up from the "dim religious light" of some solemn cathedral?
And if I have written anything to add to those stores of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well, it is surely something I may hope to look back upon without shame and sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) when
my turn comes to walk through the valley of shadows.This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling your "life in every limb," and eager to rush out into the fresh morning air —and many an Easter-day will come and go, before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sunlight —but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of that great morning when the "Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings."
Surely your gladness need not be the less for the thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this —when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters —when angel-hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving Mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day —and when all the sadness, and the sin, that darkened life on this little earth, shall be forgotten like the dreams of a night that is past!
Your affectionate friend,
LEWIS CARROLL.
EASTER, 1876.
Girt with a boyish garb for a boyish task,
Eager she wields her spade: yet loves a well
Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask
The tale he loves to tell.
Rude spirits of the seething outer strife,
Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright,
Deem, if you list, such hours a waste of life
Empty of all delight!
Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy
Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled.
Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy,
The heart-love of a child!
Away, fond thoughts, and vex my soul no more!
Work claims my wakeful nights, my busy days —
Albeit bright memories of that sunlit shore
Yet haunt my dreaming gaze!
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.4)
“Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes.”
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.
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 helmsman1 used to stand by with tears in his eyes; he knew it was all wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of the Code, “No one shall speak to the Man at the Helm,” had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words “and the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one.“ So remonstrance was impossible, and no steering could be done till the next varnishing day. During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed backwards.
1 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 pairs of boots.
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.
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.
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 the rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind, you will say “frumious.”
Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words —
“Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!”
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!”
001 “Just the place for a Snark!” the Bellman cried,
002
As he landed his crew with care;
003
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
004
By a finger entwined in his hair.
005 “Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
006
That alone should encourage the crew.
007
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
008
What I tell you three times is true.”
009 The crew was complete: it included a Boots —
010
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods —
011
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes —
012
And a Broker, to value their goods.
013 A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
014
Might perhaps have won more than his share —
015
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
016
Had the whole of their cash in his care.
017 There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
018
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
019
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
020
Though none of the sailors knew how.
021 There was one who was famed for the number of things
022
He forgot when he entered the ship:
023
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
024
And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
025 He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
026
With his name painted clearly on each:
027
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
028
They were all left behind on the beach.
029 The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
030
He had seven coats on when he came,
031
With three pairs of boots —but the worst of it was,
032
He had wholly forgotten his name.
033 He would answer to “Hi!” or to any loud cry,
034
Such as “Fry me!” or “Fritter my wig!”
035
To “What-you-may-call-um!” or “What-was-his-name!”
036
But especially “Thing-um-a-jig!”
037 While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
038
He had different names from these:
039
His intimate friends called him “Candle-ends,”
040
And his enemies “Toasted-cheese.”
041 “His form is ungainly —his intellect small —”
042
(So the Bellman would often remark)
043
“But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,
044
Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.”
045 He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare
046
With an impudent wag of the head:
047
And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,
048
“Just to keep up its spirits,” he said.
049 He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late —
050
And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad —
051
He could only bake Bridecake — for which, I may state,
052
No materials were to be had.
053 The last of the crew needs especial remark,
054
Though he looked an incredible dunce:
055
He had just one idea —but, that one being “Snark,”
056
The good Bellman engaged him at once.
057 He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
058
When the ship had been sailing a week,
059
He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,
060
And was almost too frightened to speak:
061 But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
062
There was only one Beaver on board;
063
And that was a tame one he had of his own,
064
Whose death would be deeply deplored.
065 The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
066
Protested, with tears in its eyes,
067
That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
068
Could atone for that dismal surprise!
069 It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
070
Conveyed in a separate ship:
071
But the Bellman declared that would never agree
072
With the plans he had made for the trip:
073 Navigation was always a difficult art,
074
Though with only one ship and one bell:
075
And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
076
Undertaking another as well.
077 The Beaver’s best course was, no doubt, to procure
078
A second-hand dagger-proof coat —
079
So the Baker advised it — and next, to insure
080
Its life in some Office of note:
081 This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire
082
(On moderate terms), or for sale,
083
Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
084
And one Against Damage From Hail.
085 Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
086
Whenever the Butcher was by,
087
The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
088
And appeared unaccountably shy.
089 The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies —
090
Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
091
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
092
The moment one looked in his face!
093 He had bought a large map representing the sea,
094
Without the least vestige of land:
095
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
096
A map they could all understand.
097 “What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,
098
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?”
099
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
100
“They are merely conventional signs!
101 “Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
102
But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank:
103
(So the crew would protest) “that he’s bought us the best —
104
A perfect and absolute blank!”
105 This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
106
That the Captain they trusted so well
107
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
108
And that was to tingle his bell.
109 He was thoughtful and grave —but the orders he gave
110
Were enough to bewilder a crew.
111
When he cried “Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!”
112
What on earth was the helmsman to do?
113 Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
114
A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
115
That frequently happens in tropical climes,
116
When a vessel is, so to speak, “snarked.”
117 But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
118
And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
119
Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
120
That the ship would not travel due West!
121 But the danger was past —they had landed at last,
122
With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
123
Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
124
Which consisted of chasms and crags.
125 The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
126
And repeated in musical tone
127
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe —
128
But the crew would do nothing but groan.
129 He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
130
And bade them sit down on the beach:
131
And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
132
As he stood and delivered his speech.
133 “Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!”
134
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
135
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
136
While he served out additional rations).
137 “We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
138
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
139
But never as yet (’tis your Captain who speaks)
140
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
141 “We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
142
(Seven days to the week I allow),
143
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
144
We have never beheld till now!
145 “Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
146
The five unmistakable marks
147
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
148
The warranted genuine Snarks.
149 “Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
150
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
151
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
152
With a flavour of Will-o’-the-wisp.
153 “Its habit of getting up late you’ll agree
154
That it carries too far, when I say
155
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o’clock tea,
156
And dines on the following day.
157 “The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
158
Should you happen to venture on one,
159
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
160
And it always looks grave at a pun.
161 “The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
162
Which it constantly carries about,
163
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes —
164
A sentiment open to doubt.
165 “The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
166
To describe each particular batch:
167
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
168
And those that have whiskers, and scratch.
169 “For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
170
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
171
Some are Boojums —” The Bellman broke off in alarm,
172
For the Baker had fainted away.
173 They roused him with muffins —they roused him with ice —
174
They roused him with mustard and cress —
175
They roused him with jam and judicious advice —
176
They set him conundrums to guess.
177 When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
178
His sad story he offered to tell;
179
And the Bellman cried “Silence! Not even a shriek!”
180
And excitedly tingled his bell.
181 There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,
182
Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
183
As the man they called “Ho!” told his story of woe
184
In an antediluvian tone.
185 “My father and mother were honest, though poor —”
186
“Skip all that!” cried the Bellman in haste.
187
“If it once becomes dark, there’s no chance of a Snark —
188
We have hardly a minute to waste!”
189 “I skip forty years,” said the Baker, in tears,
190
“And proceed without further remark
191
To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
192
To help you in hunting the Snark.
193 “A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
194
Remarked, when I bade him farewell —”
195
“Oh, skip your dear uncle!” the Bellman exclaimed,
196
As he angrily tingled his bell.
197 “He remarked to me then,” said that mildest of men,
198
“ ‘If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
199
Fetch it home by all means —you may serve it with greens,
200
And it’s handy for striking a light.
201 “ ‘You may seek it with thimbles —and seek it with care;
202
You may hunt it with forks and hope;
203
You may threaten its life with a railway-share;
204
You may charm it with smiles and soap —’ ”
205 (“That’s exactly the method,” the Bellman bold
206
In a hasty parenthesis cried,
207
“That’s exactly the way I have always been told
208
That the capture of Snarks should be tried!”)
209 “ ‘But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
210
If your Snark be a Boojum! For then
211
You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
212
And never be met with again!’
213 “It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
214
When I think of my uncle’s last words:
215
And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
216
Brimming over with quivering curds!
217 “It is this, it is this —” “We have had that before!”
218
The Bellman indignantly said.
219
And the Baker replied “Let me say it once more.
220
It is this, it is this that I dread!
221 “I engage with the Snark —every night after dark —
222
In a dreamy delirious fight:
223
I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
224
And I use it for striking a light:
225 “But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
226
In a moment (of this I am sure),
227
I shall softly and suddenly vanish away —
228
And the notion I cannot endure!”
229 The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
230
“If only you’d spoken before!
231
It’s excessively awkward to mention it now,
232
With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!
233 “We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
234
If you never were met with again —
235
But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
236
You might have suggested it then?
237 “It’s excessively awkward to mention it now —
238
As I think I’ve already remarked.”
239
And the man they called “Hi!” replied, with a sigh,
240
“I informed you the day we embarked.
241 “You may charge me with murder —or want of sense —
242
(We are all of us weak at times):
243
But the slightest approach to a false pretence
244
Was never among my crimes!
245 “I said it in Hebrew —I said it in Dutch —
246
I said it in German and Greek:
247
But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
248
That English is what you speak!”
249 “’Tis a pitiful tale,” said the Bellman, whose face
250
Had grown longer at every word:
251
“But, now that you’ve stated the whole of your case,
252
More debate would be simply absurd.
253 “The rest of my speech” (he explained to his men)
254
“You shall hear when I’ve leisure to speak it.
255
But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
256
’Tis your glorious duty to seek it!
257 “To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
258
To pursue it with forks and hope;
259
To threaten its life with a railway-share;
260
To charm it with smiles and soap!
261 “For the Snark’s a peculiar creature, that won’t
262
Be caught in a commonplace way.
263
Do all that you know, and try all that you don’t:
264
Not a chance must be wasted to-day!
265 “For England expects —I forbear to proceed:
266
’Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
267
And you’d best be unpacking the things that you need
268
To rig yourselves out for the fight.”
269 Then the Banker endorsed a blank cheque (which he crossed),
270
And changed his loose silver for notes.
271
The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
272
And shook the dust out of his coats.
273 The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade —
274
Each working the grindstone in turn:
275
But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
276
No interest in the concern:
277 Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
278
And vainly proceeded to cite
279
A number of cases, in which making laces
280
Had been proved an infringement of right.
281 The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
282
A novel arrangement of bows:
283
While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
284
Was chalking the tip of his nose.
285 But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
286
With yellow kid gloves and a ruff —
287
Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
288
Which the Bellman declared was all “stuff.”
289 “Introduce me, now there’s a good fellow,” he said,
290
“If we happen to meet it together!”
291
And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
292
Said “That must depend on the weather.”
293 The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
294
At seeing the Butcher so shy:
295
And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
296
Made an effort to wink with one eye.
297 “Be a man!” said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
298
The Butcher beginning to sob.
299
“Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
300
We shall need all our strength for the job!”
301 They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
302
They pursued it with forks and hope;
303
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
304
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
305 Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
306
For making a separate sally;
307
And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
308
A dismal and desolate valley.
309 But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
310
It had chosen the very same place:
311
Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
312
The disgust that appeared in his face.
313 Each thought he was thinking of nothing but “Snark”
314
And the glorious work of the day;
315
And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
316
That the other was going that way.
317 But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
318
And the evening got darker and colder,
319
Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)
320
They marched along shoulder to shoulder.
321 Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
322
And they knew that some danger was near:
323
The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
324
And even the Butcher felt queer.
325 He thought of his childhood, left far far behind —
326
That blissful and innocent state —
327
The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
328
A pencil that squeaks on a slate!
329 “’Tis the voice of the Jubjub!” he suddenly cried.
330
(This man, that they used to call “Dunce.”)
331
“As the Bellman would tell you,” he added with pride,
332
“I have uttered that sentiment once.
333 “’Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
334
You will find I have told it you twice.
335
’Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
336
If only I’ve stated it thrice.”
337 The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
338
Attending to every word:
339
But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
340
When the third repetition occurred.
341 It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
342
It had somehow contrived to lose count,
343
And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
344
By reckoning up the amount.
345 “Two added to one —if that could but be done,”
346
It said, “with one’s fingers and thumbs!”
347
Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
348
It had taken no pains with its sums.
349 “The thing can be done,” said the Butcher, “I think.
350
The thing must be done, I am sure.
351
The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,
352
The best there is time to procure.”
353 The Beaver brought paper,portfolio, pens,
354
And ink in unfailing supplies:
355
While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
356
And watched them with wondering eyes.
357 So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
358
As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
359
And explained all the while in a popular style
360
Which the Beaver could well understand.
361 “Taking Three as the subject to reason about —
362
A convenient number to state —
363
We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
364
By One Thousand diminished by Eight.
365 “The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
366
By Nine Hundred and Ninety Two:
367
Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
368
Exactly and perfectly true.
369 “The method employed I would gladly explain,
370
While I have it so clear in my head,
371
If I had but the time and you had but the brain —
372
But much yet remains to be said.
373 “In one moment I’ve seen what has hitherto been
374
Enveloped in absolute mystery,
375
And without extra charge I will give you at large
376
A Lesson in Natural History.”
377 In his genial way he proceeded to say
378
(Forgetting all laws of propriety,
379
And that giving instruction, without introduction,
380
Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),
381 “As to temper the Jubjub’s a desperate bird,
382
Since it lives in perpetual passion:
383
Its taste in costume is entirely absurd —
384
It is ages ahead of the fashion:
385 “But it knows any friend it has met once before:
386
It never will look at a bribe:
387
And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,
388
And collects —though it does not subscribe.
389 “ Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
390
Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
391
(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
392
And some, in mahogany kegs:)
393 “You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
394
You condense it with locusts and tape:
395
Still keeping one principal object in view —
396
To preserve its symmetrical shape.”
397 The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
398
But he felt that the lesson must end,
399
And he wept with delight in attempting to say
400
He considered the Beaver his friend.
401 While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks
402
More eloquent even than tears,
403
It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
404
Would have taught it in seventy years.
405 They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
406
(For a moment) with noble emotion,
407
Said “This amply repays all the wearisome days
408
We have spent on the billowy ocean!”
409 Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
410
Have seldom if ever been known;
411
In winter or summer, ’twas always the same —
412
You could never meet either alone.
413 And when quarrels arose —as one frequently finds
414
Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour —
415
The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
416
And cemented their friendship for ever!
417 They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
418
They pursued it with forks and hope;
419
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
420
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
421 But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
422
That the Beaver’s lace-making was wrong,
423
Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
424
That his fancy had dwelt on so long.
425 He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
426
Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
427
Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
428
On the charge of deserting its sty.
429 The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
430
That the sty was deserted when found:
431
And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
432
In a soft under-current of sound.
433 The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
434
And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
435
And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
436
What the pig was supposed to have done.
437 The Jury had each formed a different view
438
(Long before the indictment was read),
439
And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
440
One word that the others had said.
441 “You must know — —” said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed “Fudge!”
442
That statute is obsolete quite!
443
Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
444
On an ancient manorial right.
445 “In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
446
To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
447
While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
448
If you grant the plea ‘never indebted.’
449 “The fact of Desertion I will not dispute;
450
But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
451
(So far as related to the costs of this suit)
452
By the Alibi which has been proved.
453 “My poor client’s fate now depends on your votes.”
454
Here the speaker sat down in his place,
455
And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
456
And briefly to sum up the case.
457 But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
458
So the Snark undertook it instead,
459
And summed it so well that it came to far more
460
Than the Witnesses ever had said!
461 When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
462
As the word was so puzzling to spell;
463
But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn’t mind
464
Undertaking that duty as well.
465 So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
466
It was spent with the toils of the day:
467
When it said the word “GUILTY!” the Jury all groaned,
468
And some of them fainted away.
469 Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
470
Too nervous to utter a word:
471
When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
472
And the fall of a pin might be heard.
473 “Transportation for life”; was the sentence it gave,
474
“And then to be fined forty pound.”
475
The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
476
That the phrase was not legally sound.
477 But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
478
When the jailer informed them, with tears,
479
Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,
480
As the pig had been dead for some years.
481 The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:
482
But the Snark, though a little aghast,
483
As the lawyer to whom the defense was entrusted,
484
Went bellowing on to the last.
485 Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
486
To grow every moment more clear:
487
Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
488
Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.
489 They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
490
They pursued it with forks and hope;
491
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
492
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
493 And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
494
It was matter for general remark,
495
Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
496
In his zeal to discover the Snark
497 But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
498
A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
499
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
500
For he knew it was useless to fly.
501 He offered large discount —he offered a cheque
502
(Drawn “to bearer”) for seven-pounds-ten:
503
But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
504
And grabbed at the Banker again.
505 Without rest or pause —while those frumious jaws
506
Went savagely snapping around-
507
He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
508
Till fainting he fell to the ground.
509 The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
510
Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
511
And the Bellman remarked “It is just as I feared!”
512
And solemnly tolled on his bell.
513 He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
514
The least likeness to what he had been:
515
While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white —
516
A wonderful thing to be seen!
517 To the horror of all who were present that day.
518
He uprose in full evening dress,
519
And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
520
What his tongue could no longer express.
521 Down he sank in a chair —ran his hands through his hair —
522
And chanted in mimsiest tones
523
Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
524
While he rattled a couple of bones.
525 “Leave him here to his fate —it is getting so late!”
526
The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
527
“We have lost half the day. Any further delay,
528
And we sha’nt catch a Snark before night!”
529 They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
530
They pursued it with forks and hope;
531
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
532
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
533 They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
534
And the Beaver, excited at last,
535
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
536
For the daylight was nearly past.
537 “There is Thingumbob shouting!” the Bellman said,
538
“He is shouting like mad, only hark!
539
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
540
He has certainly found a Snark!”
541 They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
542
“He was always a desperate wag!”
543
They beheld him —their Baker —their hero unnamed —
544
On the top of a neighbouring crag.
545 Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
546
In the next, that wild figure they saw
547
(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
548
While they waited and listened in awe.
549 “It’s a Snark!” was the sound that first came to their ears,
550
And seemed almost too good to be true.
551
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
552
Then the ominous words “It’s a Boo-”
553 Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
554
A weary and wandering sigh
555
That sounded like “-jum!” but the others declare
556
It was only a breeze that went by.
557 They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
558
Not a button, or feather, or mark,
559
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
560
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
561 In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
562
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
563
He had softly and suddenly vanished away —
564
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.
The original verson of this web edition is based on
The Hunting of the Snark : An Agony, in eight Fits / by Lewis Carroll;
with nine illustrations by Henry Holiday. London : Macmillan, 1876,
published on-line by:
eBooks@Adelaide
The University of Adelaide Library
University of Adelaide
South Australia 5005