And Ung essayed to do so—by gnawing his graven bones,
But he did not find them nourish, and he begged in humbled tones
For a lump of stranded whale-meat, succulent, fat and hot;
In return for which, if they cared for his bones, they might take the lot!
So they let Ung out of the ice-cave upon these liberal terms,
And cured the fool of regarding his fellow-mortals as worms.
And whenever ye hear Art crackpots a-wagging an insolent tongue,
Why then—in the words of Rudyard—heed ye the "Story of Ung!"