"Then, if you'd be impressive, Remember what I say, That abstract qualities begin With capitals alway: The True, the Good, the Beautiful-- Those are the things that pay! "Next, when you are describing A shape, or sound, or tint; Don't state the matter plainly, But put it in a hint; And learn to look at all things With a sort of mental squint." "For instance, if I wished, Sir, Of mutton-pies to tell, Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks Pent in a wheaten cell'?" "Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase Would answer very well. "Then fourthly, there are epithets That suit with any word-- As well as Harvey's Reading Sauce With fish, or flesh, or bird-- Of these, 'wild,' 'lonely,' 'weary,' 'strange,' Are much to be preferred." "And will it do, O will it do To take them in a lump-- As 'the wild man went his weary way To a strange and lonely pump'?" "Nay, nay! You must not hastily To such conclusions jump. "Such epithets, like pepper, Give zest to what you write; And, if you strew them sparely, They whet the appetite: But if you lay them on too thick, You spoil the matter quite! [Illustration: "THE WILD MAN WENT HIS WEARY WAY"] "Last, as to the arrangement: Your reader, you should show him, Must take what information he Can get, and look for no im- mature disclosure of the drift And purpose of your poem. "Therefore, to test his patience-- How much he can endure-- Mention no places, names, or dates, And evermore be sure Throughout the poem to be found Consistently obscure. "First fix upon the limit To which it shall extend: Then fill it up with 'Padding' (Beg some of any friend): Your great SENSATION-STANZA You place towards the end." "And what is a Sensation, Grandfather, tell me, pray? I think I never heard the word So used before to-day: Be kind enough to mention one '_Exempli gratia_.'" And the old man, looking sadly Across the garden-lawn, Where here and there a dew-drop Yet glittered in the dawn, Said "Go to the Adelphi, And see the 'Colleen Bawn.' "The word is due to Boucicault-- The theory is his, Where Life becomes a Spasm, And History a Whiz: If that is not Sensation, I don't know what it is. "Now try your hand, ere Fancy Have lost its present glow--" "And then," his grandson added, "We'll publish it, you know: Green cloth--gold-lettered at the back-- In duodecimo!" Then proudly smiled that old man To see the eager lad Rush madly for his pen and ink And for his blotting-pad-- But, when he thought of _publishing_, His face grew stern and sad. [Illustration] THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK, An Agony in Eight Fits. PREFACE.