The Walrus and the Carpenter And then they rested on a rock And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row. "The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes-and ships-and sealing-wax- And why the sea is boiling hot- "But, wait a bit," the Oysters cried, "No hurry!" said the Carpenter. "A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, "Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed— Now if you're ready, Oysters dear, "But not on us!" the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. "After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!" "The night is fine," the Walrus said. "Do you admire the view? "It seems a shame," the Walrus said, "The butter's spread too thick !" "I weep for you," the Walrus said: With sobs and tears he sorted out "O Oysters," said the Carpenter, But answer came there none And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one. Lewis Carroll. When they said, "Some day you may lose them all"; He replied " Fish fiddle-de-dee !" And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink Lavender water tinged with pink, For she said, "The World in general knows There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes!" The Pobble who has no toes II Swam across the Bristol Channel; But before he set out he wrapped his nose In a piece of scarlet flannel. For his Aunt Jobiska said, "No harm And it's perfectly known that a Pobble's toes III The Pobble swam fast and well, And when boats or ships came near him, He tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bell, So that all the world could hear him. And all the Sailors and Admirals cried, IV But before he touched the shore, The shore of the Bristol Channel, On perceiving that all his toes were gone! And nobody ever knew, V From that dark day to the present, Nobody knew; and nobody knows How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes! VI The Pobble who has no toes Was placed in a friendly Bark, And they rowed him back, and carried him up To his Aunt Jobiska's Park. And she made him a feast at his earnest wish Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish ; And she said, "It's a fact the whole world knows, Edward Lear. The Author of the "Pobble" HOW pleasant to know Mr. Lear! Who has written such volumes of stuff! Some think him ill-tempered and queer, But a few think him pleasant enough. His mind is concrete and fastidious, He has ears, and two eyes, and ten fingers, Long ago he was one of the singers, He sits in a beautiful parlour, With hundreds of books on the wall; He has many friends, laymen and clerical, His body is perfectly spherical, He weareth a runcible hat. When he walks in a waterproof white, Calling out, "He's come out in his night- |