Fit the Fifth
THE
BEAVER'S LESSON
They sought it
with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued
it with forks and hope;
They threatened
its life with a railway-share;
They charmed
it with smiles and soap.
Then the Butcher
contrived an ingenious plan
For making a
separate sally;
And had fixed on
a spot unfrequented by man,
A dismal and
desolate valley.
But the very same
plan to the Beaver occurred:
It had
chosen the very same place:
Yet neither
betrayed, by a sign or a word,
The disgust
that appeared in his face.
Each thought he
was thinking of nothing but "Snark"
And the
glorious work of the day;
And each tried to
pretend that he did not remark
That the other was going that way.
But the valley
grew narrow and narrower still,
And the
evening got darker and colder,
Till (merely from
nervousness, not from goodwill)
They marched
along shoulder to shoulder.
Then a scream,
shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
And they
knew that some danger was near:
The Beaver turned
pale to the tip of its tail,
And even the
Butcher felt queer.
He thought of his
childhood, left far far behind—
That blissful and innocent state—
The sound so
exactly recalled to his mind
A pencil
that squeaks on a slate!
"'Tis the
voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried.
(This man,
that they used to call "Dunce.")
"As the Bellman
would tell you," he added with pride,
"I have
uttered that sentiment once.
"'Tis the
note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
You will
find I have told it you twice.
'Tis the song of
the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
If only I've
stated it thrice."
The Beaver had
counted with scrupulous care,
Attending to
every word:
But it fairly
lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
When the
third repetition occurred.
It felt that, in spite
of all possible pains,
It had
somehow contrived to lose count,
And the only
thing now was to rack its poor brains
By reckoning
up the amount.
"Two added
to one—if that could but be done,"
It said,
"with one's fingers and thumbs!"
Recollecting with
tears how, in earlier years,
It had taken
no pains with its sums.
"The thing
can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.
The thing
must be done, I am sure.
The thing shall
be done! Bring me paper and ink,
The best
there is time to procure."
The Beaver
brought paper, portfolio, pens,
And ink in
unfailing supplies:
While strange
creepy creatures came out of their dens,
And watched
them with wondering eyes.
So engrossed was
the Butcher, he heeded them not,
As he wrote
with a pen in each hand,
And explained all
the while in a popular style
Which the
Beaver could well understand.
"Taking
Three as the subject to reason about—
A convenient
number to state—
We add Seven, and
Ten, and then multiply out
By One
Thousand diminished by Eight.
"The result
we proceed to divide, as you see,
By Nine
Hundred and Ninety Two:
Then subtract
Seventeen, and the answer must be
Exactly and
perfectly true.
"The method
employed I would gladly explain,
While I have
it so clear in my head,
If I had but the
time and you had but the brain—
But much yet
remains to be said.
"In one
moment I've seen what has hitherto been
Enveloped in
absolute mystery,
And without extra
charge I will give you at large
A Lesson in
Natural History."
In his genial way
he proceeded to say
(Forgetting all laws of propriety,
And that giving
instruction, without introduction,
Would have
caused quite a thrill in Society),
"As to
temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
Since it
lives in perpetual passion:
Its taste in
costume is entirely absurd—
It is ages
ahead of the fashion:
"But it
knows any friend it has met once before:
It never
will look at a bribe:
And in
charity-meetings it stands at the door,
And
collects—though it does not subscribe.
"Its'
flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
Than mutton,
or oysters, or eggs:
(Some think it
keeps best in an ivory jar,
And some, in
mahogany kegs:)
"You boil it
in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
You condense
it with locusts and tape:
Still keeping one
principal object in view—
To preserve
its symmetrical shape."
The Butcher would
gladly have talked till next day,
But he felt
that the lesson must end,
And he wept with
delight in attempting to say
He
considered the Beaver his friend.
While the Beaver
confessed, with affectionate looks
More
eloquent even than tears,
It had learned in
ten minutes far more than all books
Would have
taught it in seventy years.
They returned
hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
(For a
moment) with noble emotion,
Said "This
amply repays all the wearisome days
We have
spent on the billowy ocean!"
Such friends, as
the Beaver and Butcher became,
Have seldom
if ever been known;
In winter or
summer, 'twas always the same—
You could
never meet either alone.
And when quarrels
arose—as one frequently finds
Quarrels
will, spite of every endeavour—
The song of the
Jubjub recurred to their minds,
And cemented
their friendship for ever!
