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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447666" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Phantasmagoria 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><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447666" data-title="Phantasmagoria CANTO IV ( Hys Nouryture ) de Lewis Carroll" data-description=""OH, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped and chawed the buttered toast They gave us for our tea." "That story is in print!" I cried. "Don't say it's not, bec..."></div> </div> </div>
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