Or can I have been
drinking?
Lewis Carroll
"And certainly you've given me
The best of wine and victual--
Excuse my violence," said he,
"But accidents like this, you see,
They put one out a little.
"'Twas _my_ fault after all, I find--
Shake hands, old Turnip-top! "
The name was hardly to my mind,
But, as no doubt he meant it kind,
I let the matter drop.
"Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!
When I am gone, perhaps
They'll send you some inferior Sprite,
Who'll keep you in a constant fright
And spoil your soundest naps.
"Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick;
Then, if he leers and chuckles,
You just be handy with a stick
(Mind that it's pretty hard and thick)
And rap him on the knuckles!
"Then carelessly remark 'Old coon!
Perhaps you're not aware
That, if you don't behave, you'll soon
Be chuckling to another tune--
And so you'd best take care! '
"That's the right way to cure a Sprite
Of such like goings-on--
But gracious me! It's getting light!
Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night! "
A nod, and he was gone.
[Picture: The ghost]
CANTO VII
Sad Souvenaunce
[Picture: Or can I have been drinking]
"WHAT'S this? " I pondered. "Have I slept?
Or can I have been drinking? "
But soon a gentler feeling crept
Upon me, and I sat and wept
An hour or so, like winking.
"No need for Bones to hurry so! "
I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt
If it was worth his while to go--
And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know,
To make such work about?
"If Tibbs is anything like me,
It's _possible_," I said,
"He won't be over-pleased to be
Dropped in upon at half-past three,
After he's snug in bed.
"And if Bones plagues him anyhow--
Squeaking and all the rest of it,
As he was doing here just now--
_I_ prophesy there'll be a row,
And Tibbs will have the best of it! "
[Picture: And Tibbs will have the best of it]
Then, as my tears could never bring
The friendly Phantom back,
It seemed to me the proper thing
To mix another glass, and sing
The following Coronach.
'_And art thou gone_, _beloved Ghost_?
_Best of Familiars_!
_Nay then_, _farewell_, _my duckling roast_,
_Farewell_, _farewell_, _my tea and toast_,
_My meerschaum and cigars_!
_The hues of life are dull and gray_,
_The sweets of life insipid_,
_When_ thou, _my charmer_, _art away_--
_Old Brick_, _or rather_, _let me say_,
_Old Parallelepiped_! '
Instead of singing Verse the Third,
I ceased--abruptly, rather:
But, after such a splendid word
I felt that it would be absurd
To try it any farther.
So with a yawn I went my way
To seek the welcome downy,
And slept, and dreamed till break of day
Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay
And Leprechaun and Brownie!
For years I've not been visited
By any kind of Sprite;
Yet still they echo in my head,
Those parting words, so kindly said,
"Old Turnip-top, good-night! "
[Picture: The ghost]
ECHOES
LADY Clara Vere de Vere
Was eight years old, she said:
Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.
