Master John Inchingham |
(With apologies to Lewis Carroll)
'Twas crownish, and the needling maids
Did plotter and tittle in the shade:
Self-portant were the marshallumps,
And the drone-geeks o-yayed.
"Fight well, brave Deechfonnock, my friend!
Yon foes are fierce, with throne-lust mad!
Beware the Surbill Bird and shun
Svainsbane and Wallupcad!"
He took his sliderule sword in hand:
Through first bout blaised, like tallowfire;
Then rested he by the scallist tree
And passing Fluttergwyn admired.
But, as at fluttergwyn he grinned,
Dumb Deechfonnock forgot his foes!
And wallupcad did smite him bad;
Left Deech half-dead, so all supposed.
Thus sneaky svainsbane saw his chance
But Deechfonnock was ready!
They chove and slanched and rattle-clanched
Till svainsbane was confetti!
"Oh, art thou hurt, dear Deechfonnock?
Return, twiceworthy winner!
Come, sit by me, the Surbill Bird,
For thou art my next dinner!"
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