O Frabjous Day!

by Lewis Carroll

  '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.'

  'Introduce me, now there's a good fellow,' he said, 'If we happen to meet it together!'

  And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head, Said 'That must depend on the weather.'

  The Beaver went simply galumphing about,

  At seeing the Butcher so shy:

  And even the Baker, though stupid and stout, Made an effort to wink with one eye.

  'Be a man!' said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard The Butcher beginning to sob.

  'Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird, We shall need all our strength for the job!'

  FIT THE FIFTH

  THE BEAVER'S LESSON

  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope;

  They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap.

  Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan For making a separate sally;

  And had fixed on a spot unfrequented by man, A dismal and desolate valley.

  But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred: It had chosen the very same place:

  Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,

  The disgust that appeared in his face.

  Each thought he was thinking of nothing but 'Snark'

  And the glorious work of the day;

  And each tried to pretend that he did not remark That the other was going that way.

  But the valley grew narrow and narrower still, And the evening got darker and colder,

  Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill) They marched along shoulder to shoulder.

  Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky, And they knew that some danger was near:

  The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail, And even the Butcher felt queer.

  He thought of his childhood, left far far behind -

  That blissful and innocent state -

  The sound so exactly recalled to his mind

  A pencil that squeaks on a slate!

  ''Tis the voice of the Jubjub!' he suddenly cried.

  (This man, that they used to call 'Dunce.')

  'As the Bellman would tell you,' he added with pride, 'I have uttered that sentiment once.

  ''Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat.

  You will find I have told it you twice.

  'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete.

  If only I've stated it thrice.'

  The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care, Attending to every word:

  But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair, When the third repetition occurred.

  It felt that, in spite of all possible pains, It had somehow contrived to lose count,

  And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains By reckoning up the amount.

  'Two added to one - if that could but be done,'

  It said, 'with one's fingers and thumbs!'

  Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years, It had taken no pains with its sums.

  'The thing can be done,' said the Butcher, 'I think.

  The thing must be done, I am sure.

  The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink, The best there is time to procure.'

  The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens, And ink in unfailing supplies:

  While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens, And watched them with wondering eyes.

  So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not, As he wrote with a pen in each hand,

  And explained all the while in a popular style Which the Beaver could well understand.

  'Taking Three as the subject to reason about -

  A convenient number to state -

  We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out By One Thousand diminished by Eight.

  'The result we proceed to divide, as you see, By Nine Hundred and Ninety and Two:

  Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be Exactly and perfectly true.

  'The method employed I would gladly explain, While I have it so clear in my head,

  If I had but the time and you had but the brain -

  But much yet remains to be said.

  'In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been Enveloped in absolute mystery,

  And without extra charge I will give you at large A Lesson in Natural History.'

  In his genial way he proceeded to say (Forgetting all laws of propriety,

  And that giving instruction, without introduction, Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),

  'As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird, Since it lives in perpetual passion:

  Its taste in costume is entirely absurd -

  It is ages ahead of the fashion:

  'But it knows any friend it has met once before: It never will look at a bribe:

  And in charity-meetings it stands at the door, And collects - though it does not subscribe.

  'Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:

  (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,

  And some, in mahogany kegs:)

  'You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue: You condense it with locusts and tape:

  Still keeping one principal object in view -

  To preserve its symmetrical shape.'

  The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day, But he felt that the lesson must end,

  And he wept with delight in attempting to say He considered the Beaver his friend:

  While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks More eloquent even than tears,

  It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books Would have taught it in seventy years.

  They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned (For a moment) with noble emotion,

  Said 'This amply repays all the wearisome days We have spent on the billowy ocean!'

  Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became, Have seldom if ever been known;

  In winter or summer, 'twas always the same -

  You could never meet either alone.

  And when quarrels arose - as one frequently finds Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour -

  The song of the Jubjub
recurred to their minds, And cemented their friendship for ever!

  FIT THE SEVENTH

  THE BANKER'S FATE

  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope;

  They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap.

  And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new It was matter for general remark,

  Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view In his zeal to discover the Snark.

  But while he was seeking with thimbles and care, A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh

  And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair, For he knew it was useless to fly.

  He offered large discount - he offered a cheque (Drawn 'to bearer') for seven-pounds-ten:

  But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck And grabbed at the Banker again.

  Without rest or pause - while those frumious jaws Went savagely snapping around -

  He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped, Till fainting he fell to the ground.

  The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared Led on by that fear-stricken yell:

  And the Bellman remarked 'It is just as I feared!'

  And solemnly tolled on his bell.

  He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace The least likeness to what he had been:

  While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white -

  A wonderful thing to be seen!

  To the horror of all who were present that day, He uprose in full evening dress,

  And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say What his tongue could no longer express.

  Down he sank in a chair - ran his hands through his hair -

  And chanted in mimsiest tones

  Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity, While he rattled a couple of bones.

  'Leave him here to his fate - it is getting so late!'

  The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.

  'We have lost half the day. Any further delay, And we shan't catch a Snark before night!'

  FIT THE EIGHTH

  THE VANISHING

  They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope;

  They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap.

  They shuddered to think that the chase might fail, And the Beaver, excited at last,

  Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,

  For the daylight was nearly past.

  'There is Thingumbob shouting!' the Bellman said, 'He is shouting like mad, only hark!

  He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head, He has certainly found a Snark!'

  They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed 'He was always a desperate wag!'

  They beheld him - their Baker - their hero unnamed -

  On the top of a neighbouring crag,

  Erect and sublime, for one moment of time,

  In the next, that wild figure they saw

  (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm, While they waited and listened in awe.

  'It's a Snark!' was the sound that first came to their ears, And seemed almost too good to be true.

  Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers: Then the ominous words 'It's a Boo -'

  Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air A weary and wandering sigh

  That sounded like '-jum!' but the others declare It was only a breeze that went by.

  They hunted till darkness came on, but they found Not a button, or feather, or mark,

  By which they could tell that they stood on the ground Where the Baker had met with the Snark.

  In the midst of the word he was trying to say, In the midst of his laughter and glee,

  He had softly and suddenly vanished away -

  For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.

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