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قراءة كتاب The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits

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‏اللغة: English
The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits

The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 4

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 meagre and hollow, but crisp:
     Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
          With a flavour 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

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