Dear Rig.—Have you read my famous book,
About the wonderful route I took;
Through frost and snow, how I went so far,
To stare in vain at the polar star,
And how I sought by night and noon
To bag the beams of the arctic moon;
And how it was far beyond a joke
To think my steam should end in smoke;
With all the spiteful things I said,
As I knock'd the engine on the head;