Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/126

 on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea-wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave— A little whisper at my ear Enquires the reason of my fear.

I answer "If that ruffian Jones, Should recognise me here, He'd bellow out my name in tones Offensive to the ear: He chaffs me so on being stout (A thing that always puts me out)."