No More Learning

Dyscomfyture.

As one who strives a hill to climb,
Who never climbed before:
Who finds it, in a little time,
Grow every moment less sublime,
And votes the thing a bore:

Yet, having once begun to try,
Dares not desert his quest,
But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
On one small hut against the sky,
Wherein he hopes to rest:

Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
With many a puff and pant:
Who still, as rises the ascent,
In language grows more violent,
Although in breath more scant:

[Illustration]

Who, climbing, gains at length the place
That crowns the upward track;
And, entering with unsteady pace,
Receives a buffet in the face
That lands him on his back:

And feels himself, like one in sleep,
Glide swiftly down again,
A helpless weight, from steep to steep,
Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,
He drops upon the plain--

So I, that had resolved to bring
Conviction to a ghost,
And found it quite a different thing
From any human arguing,
Yet dared not quit my post

But, keeping still the end in view
To which I hoped to come,
I strove to prove the matter true
By putting everything I knew
Into an axiom:

Commencing every single phrase
With 'therefore' or 'because,'
I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,
About the syllogistic maze,
Unconscious where I was.

Quoth he "That's regular clap-trap:
Don't bluster any more.
Now _do_ be cool and take a nap!
Such a ridiculous old chap
Was never seen before!

"You're like a man I used to meet,
Who got one day so furious
In arguing, the simple heat
Scorched both his slippers off his feet! "
I said "_That's very curious! _"

[Illustration: "SCORCHED BOTH HIS SLIPPERS OFF HIS FEET"]

"Well, it _is_ curious, I agree,
And sounds perhaps like fibs:
But still it's true as true can be--
As sure as your name's Tibbs," said he.
I said "My name's _not_ Tibbs. "

"_Not_ Tibbs! " he cried--his tone became
A shade or two less hearty--
"Why, no," said I. "My proper name
Is Tibbets--" "Tibbets? " "Aye, the same. "
"Why, then YOU'RE NOT THE PARTY! "

With that he struck the board a blow
That shivered half the glasses.
"Why couldn't you have told me so
Three quarters of an hour ago,
You prince of all the asses?

"To walk four miles through mud and rain,
To spend the night in smoking,
And then to find that it's in vain--
And I've to do it all again--
It's really _too_ provoking!

[Illustration]

"Don't talk! " he cried, as I began
To mutter some excuse.
"Who can have patience with a man
That's got no more discretion than
An idiotic goose?

"To keep me waiting here, instead
Of telling me at once
That this was not the house! " he said.
"There, that'll do--be off to bed!
Don't gape like that, you dunce! "

"It's very fine to throw the blame
On _me_ in such a fashion!
Why didn't you enquire my name
The very minute that you came? "
I answered in a passion.

"Of course it worries you a bit
To come so far on foot--
But how was _I_ to blame for it? "
"Well, well! " said he. "I must admit
That isn't badly put.