The maiden cut her grandpa up in little tiny bits, And scared her grandma so she died in epileptic fits. The dry nurse with the clothes-line was serenely strangled, while They tossed the little baby to the sacred crocodile. [Illustration] And when the fuss was over, said the maiden to the Thug: "You'd better have a hole within the cemetery dug; And let the undertaker take extraordinary pains To decently inter this lot of mangled-up remains." And when the usual bitter tears were at the funeral shed, The lovers to the temple went, in order to be wed. The priest had barbecued a man that day for sacrifice; They cooked him with the cracklin' on; with gravy brown and nice. The chief priest asked the maiden, when the services began, If her papa had said she might annex this fine young man? "Oh no," she said, "my loving wish he foolishly withstood, So him and all the family we slaughtered in cold blood." "You shock me!" said the pious priest; "your conduct makes me sad; You never learned at Sunday-school to be so awful bad. I've told you often, when you killed a person anywhere, To bring the body to that old nine-headed idol there; "The great Vishnu is suffering for victims every day, And here you go and cut them up and throw the bones away! Extravagance is sinful; I must really put it down; I've half a mind to pull the string and make the idol frown. "I must punish you with rigor; and I order that you two Instead of getting married shall severest penance do." So on a piece of paper then he scribbled a brief word; The lovers as they left, of course, felt perfectly absurd. The Thug then read the order o'er, and bursting into tears, He said, "This paper realizes my unpleasant fears. Upon my word, my sweetest one, it really chills my blood; I've got to suffocate you in the Ganges' holy mud." And so he sadly led her down unto the river's bank, And like a stone into the cold, religious slime she sank. And there she stuck the livelong day, and all the following night. Until an alligator came and ate her at a bite. The Thug he felt exceeding hurt at her untimely fate, But his, though not so dreadful, was not nice, at any rate. The priest, in his fierce anger, had condemned him, it appears, To stand alone upon one leg for forty-seven years! [Illustration] CHAPTER XXII. AN ARRIVAL--A PRESENT FROM A CONGRESSMAN--MEDITATIONS UPON HIS PURPOSE--THE PATENT OFFICE REPORT OF THE FUTURE--A PLAN FOR REVOLUTIONIZING PUBLIC DOCUMENTS AND OPENING A NEW DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE--OUR TRIP TO SALEM--A TRAGICAL INCIDENT--THE LAST OF LIEUTENANT SMILEY. [Illustration] [Illustration]