No More Learning

"I wondered what on earth they were,
That looked all head and sack;
But Mother told me not to stare,
And then she twitched me by the hair,
And punched me in the back.

"Since then I've often wished that I
Had been a Spectre born.
But what's the use? " (He heaved a sigh. )
"_They_ are the ghost-nobility,
And look on _us_ with scorn.

"My phantom-life was soon begun:
When I was barely six,
I went out with an older one--
And just at first I thought it fun,
And learned a lot of tricks.

"I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers--
Wherever I was sent:
I've often sat and howled for hours,
Drenched to the skin with driving showers,
Upon a battlement.

"It's quite old-fashioned now to groan
When you begin to speak:
This is the newest thing in tone--"
And here (it chilled me to the bone)
He gave an _awful_ squeak.

"Perhaps," he added, "to _your_ ear
That sounds an easy thing?
Try it yourself, my little dear!
It took _me_ something like a year,
With constant practising.

"And when you've learned to squeak, my man,
And caught the double sob,
You're pretty much where you began:
Just try and gibber if you can!
That's something _like_ a job!

"_I've_ tried it, and can only say
I'm sure you couldn't do it, e-
ven if you practised night and day,
Unless you have a turn that way,
And natural ingenuity.

"Shakspeare I think it is who treats
Of Ghosts, in days of old,
Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,'
Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets--
They must have found it cold.
"I've often spent ten pounds on stuff,
In dressing as a Double;
But, though it answers as a puff,
It never has effect enough
To make it worth the trouble.

[Picture: In dressing as a Double]

"Long bills soon quenched the little thirst
I had for being funny.
The setting-up is always worst:
Such heaps of things you want at first,
One must be made of money!

"For instance, take a Haunted Tower,
With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;
Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,
Condensing lens of extra power,
And set of chains complete:

"What with the things you have to hire--
The fitting on the robe--
And testing all the coloured fire--
The outfit of itself would tire
The patience of a Job!

"And then they're so fastidious,
The Haunted-House Committee:
I've often known them make a fuss
Because a Ghost was French, or Russ,
Or even from the City!

"Some dialects are objected to--
For one, the _Irish_ brogue is:
And then, for all you have to do,
One pound a week they offer you,
And find yourself in Bogies! "



CANTO V
Byckerment


"DON'T they consult the 'Victims,' though? "
I said. "They should, by rights,
Give them a chance--because, you know,
The tastes of people differ so,
Especially in Sprites. "

The Phantom shook his head and smiled.
"Consult them? Not a bit!
'Twould be a job to drive one wild,
To satisfy one single child--
There'd be no end to it! "

"Of course you can't leave _children_ free,"
Said I, "to pick and choose:
But, in the case of men like me,
I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be
Allowed to state his views. "

He said "It really wouldn't pay--
Folk are so full of fancies.
We visit for a single day,
And whether then we go, or stay,
Depends on circumstances.