The Complete Alice in Wonderland (59 page)

But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank”

(So the crew would protest) “that he’s bought us the best—

A 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 grave—but 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 past—they 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 woe—

But 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 Will-o’-the-wisp.

“Its habit of getting up late you’ll agree

That it carries too far, when I say

That it frequently breakfasts at five-o’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 bathing-machines,

Which is constantly carries about,

And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes—

A 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 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!”

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 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 wo’n’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.