Saturday, February 24, 2007
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the jubjub bird, and shun the frumious bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand: long time the manxome foe he sought --so rested he by the tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head he went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy. `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.
Lewis Carroll
5 comments:
Ms. Cannon always used to proclaim, "Callooh! Callay!"
On a kind-of related note, I had a dream the other night that I had to recite the prologue to "Canterbury Tales" and I couldn't remember it. I woke up in a cold sweat and recited all 18 lines fine. Phew. Glad those synapses still work! "Whan that Aprille with the sho'ers sotte, the drought of March hath perced to the rote..."
Wow, that's a high threshhold. I am lucky if I remember how to spell Canturbury.
...and bathed every vein in swish laker of which engendered is the fleur. When Zepheres aik with his swete breatha inspirid hath in ....
and I graduated high school fifty years ago!
...every holt and heathe, then pricketh him Nature in her courages, then longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
zang
Mom and I are like Dueling Chaucers!
My braineth haute upon a musheth. Nay the fonde pachineth on the tongue did sit.
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