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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117121" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Canto IV — Hys Nouryture</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Oh, when I was a little Ghost,<br>A merry time had we!<br>Each seated on his favourite post,<br>We chumped and chawed the buttered toast<br>They gave us for our tea."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"That story is in print!" I cried.<br>"Don't say it's not, because<br>It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!"<br>(The Ghost uneasily replied<br>He hardly thought it was).</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet<br>I almost think it is —<br>'Three little Ghosteses' were set<br>'On posteses,' you know, and ate<br>Their 'buttered toasteses.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I have the book; so if you doubt it — "<br>I turned to search the shelf.<br>"Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it:<br>I now remember all about it;<br>I wrote the thing myself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"It came out in a 'Monthly,' or<br>At least my agent said it did:<br>Some literary swell, who saw<br>It, thought it seemed adapted for<br>The Magazine he edited.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"My father was a Brownie, Sir;<br>My mother was a Fairy.<br>The notion had occurred to her,<br>The children would be happier,<br>If they were taught to vary.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"The notion soon became a craze;<br>And, when it once began, she<br>Brought us all out in different ways —<br>One was a Pixy, two were Fays,<br>Another was a Banshee;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"The Fetch and Kelpie went to school<br>And gave a lot of trouble;<br>Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,<br>And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),<br>A Goblin, and a Double —</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf,"<br>He added with a yawn,<br>"I'll take a pinch) — next came an Elf,<br>And then a Phantom (that's myself),<br>And last, a Leprechaun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"One day, some Spectres chanced to call,<br>Dressed in the usual white:<br>I stood and watched them in the hall,<br>And couldn't make them out at all,<br>They seemed so strange a sight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I wondered what on earth they were,<br>That looked all head and sack;<br>But Mother told me not to stare,<br>And then she twitched me by the hair,<br>And punched me in the back.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Since then I've often wished that I<br>Had been a Spectre born.<br>But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh.)<br>"They are the ghost-nobility,<br>And look on us with scorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"My phantom-life was soon begun:<br>When I was barely six,<br>I went out with an older one —<br>And just at first I thought it fun,<br>And learned a lot of tricks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers —<br>Wherever I was sent:<br>I've often sat and howled for hours,<br>Drenched to the skin with driving showers,<br>Upon a battlement.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"It's quite old-fashioned now to groan<br>When you begin to speak:<br>This is the newest thing in tone — "<br>And here (it chilled me to the bone)<br>He gave an awful squeak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Perhaps," he added, "to your ear<br>That sounds an easy thing?<br>Try it yourself, my little dear!<br>It took me something like a year,<br>With constant practising.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"And when you've learned to squeak, my man,<br>And caught the double sob,<br>You're pretty much where you began:<br>Just try and gibber if you can!<br>That's something like a job!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I've tried it, and can only say<br>I'm sure you couldn't do it, e-<br>ven if you practised night and day,<br>Unless you have a turn that way,<br>And natural ingenuity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Shakspeare I think it is who treats<br>Of Ghosts, in days of old,<br>Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,'<br>Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets —<br>They must have found it cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I've often spent ten pounds on stuff,<br>In dressing as a Double;<br>But, though it answers as a puff,<br>It never has effect enough<br>To make it worth the trouble.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Long bills soon quenched the little thirst<br>I had for being funny.<br>The setting-up is always worst:<br>Such heaps of things you want at first,<br>One must be made of money!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"For instance, take a Haunted Tower,<br>With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;<br>Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,<br>Condensing lens of extra power,<br>And set of chains complete:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"What with the things you have to hire —<br>The fitting on the robe —<br>And testing all the coloured fire —<br>The outfit of itself would tire<br>The patience of a Job!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"And then they're so fastidious,<br>The Haunted-House Committee:<br>I've often known them make a fuss<br>Because a Ghost was French, or Russ,<br>Or even from the City!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Some dialects are objected to —<br>For one, the Irish brogue is:<br>And then, for all you have to do,<br>One pound a week they offer you,<br>And find yourself in Bogies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lewis+Carroll">Lewis Carroll</a> from <i>Phantasmagoria</i><div class=q>
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