WILLIAM THE IRREPRESSIBLE. "NOW THEN, COUSIN AUSTRIA, PUT ON A UNIFORM, AND COME AND PLAY AT SOLDIERS!"]
_Regular_ (_manouevering with Yeomanry_). "GOT TO GIVE UP MY ARMS, HAVE I? UMPH! THIS COMES OF GOING OUT WITH A LOT OF DARNED VOLUNTEERS!"]
(_BY A CORRESPONDENT WITH ADMIRAL TRYITON'S FLEET._)
We sought it with search-lights, we sought it with care, We pursued it with ships and hope; But it seemed to have suddenly vanished in air From under the heaven's blue cope.
We shuddered to think that the chace might fail, And 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!
[Illustration: "Is this a dagger that I see before me?"
No, c'est un souvenir d'Aubourg, une petite truelle à 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 burnished metal, on which is inscribed, "_Hostellerie des Vieux Plats, Souvenir d'Aubourg_," which _truelle_, if not large, "yet will serve" to help fish, or _pommes soufflées_, or _pommes Anna_, and, mark ye, my masters, will also serve to recall to my memory a right merrie, even tho' 'twere an all too short, holiday.