But my Hiawatha's patience, His politeness and his patience, Unaccountably had vanished, And he left that happy party. Left them in a mighty hurry, Stating that he would not stand it, Stating in emphatic language What he'd be before he'd stand it. Thus departed Hiawatha. From _Rhyme? and Reason?_ by Lewis Carroll, 1883. These disjointed extracts give but a poor idea of this most amusing poem, the comical effects of which are much heightened by Mr. A. B. Frost's humorous illustrations. * * * * * THE LAWN-TENNIS PARTY AT PEPPERHANGER. (_A fragment in the metre of Longfellow's "Hiawatha."_) I was sitting in my wigwam, Looking from my lofty wigwam, On the fir-clad hill of Dryburgh, O'er the vale of Pepperhanger. Suddenly there came a rapping, [Sidenote: The Postman's knock.] Double rapping, double tapping, Sounding through the little wigwam, Startling quiet Pepperhanger. Thus the Government Messénjah, [Sidenote: Heathen Mythology.] Mercury of brazen buttons, Crimson-collared, azure-coated, Blue as when some ancient Briton, As enlightenment came o'er him, Thinking skin was rather shabby, [Sidenote: History of England.] Went and put a coat of Woad on. He, the carrier of all letters, He the bearer of all tidings To the lofty hill of Dryburgh, To the vale of Pepperhanger. Swiftly then I took the letter; Eagerly I read the message From a hospitable lady Of the vale of Pepperhanger, "Come at four o'clock to tiffin, If no better action urges; In the cool of Tuesday evening, Come and play a game of Tennis On my lawns at Pepperhanger." Thus her letter: then I sallied To her almost hidden wigwam. Which from East and rude Sou'-wester Evergreen the pine-tree shelters; Took my Tennis shoes of rubber, Mocassins of Indian rubber, Racket, too, of Horace Bayley, To the tournament of Tennis On the lawns of Pepperhanger. [Sidenote: Lodge's Peerage.] Came the lordly Tennyslornah. Came the Reverend B. A. Kander, [Sidenote: Clergy List.] Came the cute 'un, Charley Pleycynge, Came the smasher, young de Vorley, Came the great Sir V. O. Verandah, Came the warrior, Foragh Biscoe, [Sidenote: Sludgeborough-in-the-Marsh.] Strangers from a distant countrie, To the tournament of Tennis In the vale of Pepperhanger. There we had a game at Tennis, Outdoor Tennis let us call it, Lest the lords of real Tennis Should invoke a curse upon us; Hotly smote the fierce back-hander, Volleyed toward, also froward, Till the speeding ball appeared as