They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed-- On the top of a neighboring crag.
Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
In the next, that wild figure they saw (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm, While they waited and listened in awe.
"It"s a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears, And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers: Then the ominous words "It"s a Boo-"
Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air A weary and wandering sigh Then sounded like "-jum!" but the others declare It was only a breeze that went by.
They hunted till darkness came on, but they found Not a b.u.t.ton, or feather, or mark, By which they could tell that they stood on the ground Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
In the midst of the word he was trying to say, In the midst of his laughter and glee, He had softly and suddenly vanished away--- For the Snark _was_ a Boojum, you see.
THE END