Page:Carroll - Rhyme and Reason.djvu/40

24 "I don't care who he was, Sir, or
 * On whom he pinned his faith!

Constructed by whatever law, So poor a job I never saw,
 * As I 'm a living Wraith!

"What a re-markable cigar!
 * How much are they a dozen?"

I growled "No matter what they are! You're getting as familiar
 * As if you were my cousin!

"Now that's a thing I will not stand,
 * And so I tell you flat."

"Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!' (Taking a bottle in his hand)
 * "I'll soon arrange for that!"

And here he took a careful aim,
 * And gaily cried "Here goes!"

I tried to dodge it as it came, But somehow caught it, all the same,
 * Exactly on my nose.