d TRYON, excited at last,
Went ramping like redskin in search of a trail,
For the ten days were nearly past.
"There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Admiral said.
"He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
He has certainly found the--Snark!"
We gazed in delight, whilst a Bo'sun exclaimed--
(Your Bo'sun is always a wag!)--
"In the East there's a wision, a _mirage_ it's named!
_That_ the Snark? Put yer head in a bag!"
Then Admiral TRYON he ramped like a lion,
In prospect of splendid success.
But the Snark, with a spasm, plunged in a sea chasm;
Of SEYMOUR one couldn't see less.
"It's the Snark!" was the sound that first fell on our ears,
It seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and jeers,
Then the words, "It is all a Yah-Boo--"
Then silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A sigh (from the lips of J.D.?)
That sounded like "----jum!" But some others declare
It was more like a half-choked big D.!
We hunted ten days and ten nights, but we found
Not so much as poor collier-barque.
By which we might tell that we steamed o'er the ground
Where CULM-SEYMOUR had handled the--Snark!
In the depths of that two thousand square miles, they say,
'Midst the world's mocking laughter and glee,
SEYMOUR softly and silently vanished away--
This Snark _was_ a Yah-Booh-Jum, you see!
* * * * *
"A VERY SHORT HOLIDAY."
[Illustration: "Is this a dagger that I see before me?"
No, c'est un souvenir d'Aubourg, une petite truelle a poisson de
l'Hostellerie des Vieux Plats, Gonneville.]
For the benefit of all tourists in Normandy, and visitors to Le Havre,
Etretat, and all round and about that quarter, I gave an account,
two weeks ago, of the excellent fare provided for us by _La famille
Aubourg_ at Gonneville. But on that occasion I made the great mistake
of calling their curious old house--a perfect little museum of
curiosities and works of Art--"a hotel." By my halidom! "Hotel," save
the mark--and spend the shilling. "Hotel," quotha! "Hotel" is far too
modern. Old English "Inn" more like. The kind of inn, good gossip,
which was kept in SHAKSPEARE's time by "mine host," where everyone,
with coin of the realm in his purse, could take his ease and be happy.
So, to put me right on this matter, M. AUBOURG sends me a _truelle_ of
bu
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