FIT THE LAST.—THE VANISHING.
We sought it with search-lights, we sought it with care,
We pursued it with ships and hope;
But it seemed to have suddenly vanished in air
From under the heaven's blue cope.
We shuddered to think that the chace might fail,
And TRYON, excited at last,
Went ramping like redskin in search of a trail,
For the ten days were nearly past.
"There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Admiral said.
"He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
He has certainly found the—Snark!"
We gazed in delight, whilst a Bo'sun exclaimed—
(Your Bo'sun is always a wag!)—
"In the East there's a wision, a mirage it's named!
That the Snark? Put yer head in a bag!"
Then Admiral TRYON he ramped like a lion,
In prospect of splendid success.
But the Snark, with a spasm, plunged in a sea chasm;
Of SEYMOUR one couldn't see less.
"It's the Snark!" was the sound that first fell on our ears,
It seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and jeers,
Then the words, "It is all a Yah-Boo—"
Then silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A sigh (from the lips of J.D.?)
That sounded like "——jum!" But some others declare
It was more like a half-choked big D.!
We hunted ten days and ten nights, but we found
Not so much as poor collier-barque.
By which we might tell that we steamed o'er the ground
Where CULM-SEYMOUR had handled the—Snark!
In the depths of that two thousand square miles, they say,
'Midst the world's mocking laughter and glee,
SEYMOUR softly and silently vanished away—
This Snark was a Yah-Booh-Jum, you see!