"And now, gentlemen," said the chairman, "after having spent the tenth anniversary of our club in the company of mermaids, sea monsters, ghouls, spirits, and phantom fleas, how can we do better than wind up this honourable meeting by joining hands and singing that song composed by one of our members—now, alas! no more—to be sung at the inauguration of the Wonder Club?"
The proposal was received with applause, and all the company joining hands, our host included, sung the following ditty:—
Song of the Wonder Club.
As we join hand in hand
Let us sing to our band,
And lift up our voice in a ditty;
May memories well stored
E'er enliven our board
With the wondrous, the weird, and the witty.
Let each thirsty soul
Round the merry punch bowl
Drink deep to our brotherhood's founding,
And loud be the cheers
That resound in the ears
Of the member with tale most astounding.
Round the merry Yule flame
May our band of the same
Meet year after year in their niches,
And list as of yore
To our tales by the score
Of phantoms, wraiths, goblins, and witches.
Then our song's jocund sound,
When our nectar flows round,
Sure Olympus was never so merry.
Right jovial our crew,
Whate'er be the brew,
Whether brandy, port, whisky or sherry.
Now whate'er befall,
Here's a "good-night" to all,
May Queen Mab with her train cheer our slumber;
And with one last toast,
Let us drown every ghost,
Or goblin, or ghoul, in a bumper.
The song at an end, a last bumper was drunk by way of a nightcap, and each gallant member or guest walked, or staggered, as the case might be, off to bed.
"Ho, steward!" cried the captain, to the landlord; "douse the glims, and show the passengers to their cabins. Where have you slung my hammock?"