No More Learning

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"If you address a Ghost as 'Thing! '
Or strike him with a hatchet,
He is permitted by the King
To drop all _formal_ parleying--
And then you're _sure_ to catch it!

"The Fourth prohibits trespassing
Where other Ghosts are quartered:
And those convicted of the thing
(Unless when pardoned by the King)
Must instantly be slaughtered.

"That simply means 'be cut up small':
Ghosts soon unite anew.
The process scarcely hurts at all--
Not more than when _you_ 're what you call
'Cut up' by a Review.

"The Fifth is one you may prefer
That I should quote entire:--
_The King must be addressed as_ '_Sir_. '
_This_, _from a simple courtier_,
_Is all the Laws require_:

"_But_, _should you wish to do the thing_
_With out-and-out politeness_,
_Accost him as_ '_My Goblin King_!
_And always use_, _in answering_,
_The phrase_ '_Your Royal Whiteness_! '

"I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear,
After so much reciting:
So, if you don't object, my dear,
We'll try a glass of bitter beer--
I think it looks inviting. "

[Picture: We'll try a glass of bitter beer]



CANTO III
Scarmoges


"AND did you really walk," said I,
"On such a wretched night?
I always fancied Ghosts could fly--
If not exactly in the sky,
Yet at a fairish height. "

"It's very well," said he, "for Kings
To soar above the earth:
But Phantoms often find that wings--
Like many other pleasant things--
Cost more than they are worth.

"Spectres of course are rich, and so
Can buy them from the Elves:
But _we_ prefer to keep below--
They're stupid company, you know,
For any but themselves:

"For, though they claim to be exempt
From pride, they treat a Phantom
As something quite beneath contempt--
Just as no Turkey ever dreamt
Of noticing a Bantam. "

[Picture: The phantom]

"They seem too proud," said I, "to go
To houses such as mine.
Pray, how did they contrive to know
So quickly that 'the place was low,'
And that I 'kept bad wine'? "

"Inspector Kobold came to you--"
The little Ghost began.
Here I broke in--"Inspector who?
Inspecting Ghosts is something new!
Explain yourself, my man! "

"His name is Kobold," said my guest:
"One of the Spectre order:
You'll very often see him dressed
In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,
And a night-cap with a border.

"He tried the Brocken business first,
But caught a sort of chill;
So came to England to be nursed,
And here it took the form of _thirst_,
Which he complains of still.

[Picture: And here it took the form of thirst]

"Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,
Warms his old bones like nectar:
And as the inns, where it is found,
Are his especial hunting-ground,
We call him the _Inn-Spectre_. "

I bore it--bore it like a man--
This agonizing witticism!
And nothing could be sweeter than
My temper, till the Ghost began
Some most provoking criticism.

"Cooks need not be indulged in waste;
Yet still you'd better teach them
Dishes should have _some sort_ of taste.
Pray, why are all the cruets placed
Where nobody can reach them?

"That man of yours will never earn
His living as a waiter!
Is that queer _thing_ supposed to burn?
(It's far too dismal a concern
To call a Moderator).

"The duck was tender, but the peas
Were very much too old:
And just remember, if you please,
The _next_ time you have toasted cheese,
Don't let them send it cold.