(A photo essay and poem.... with apologies to Lewis Carroll....)
Press on any photo for the larger version
Fit the Eighth
They sought it in outruns, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with their teeth and hope;
They threatened its life with a Border-stare;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
And the Borders, excited at last,
Went bounding along on the tips of their tails,
For the daylight was nearly past.
"There is Thingumbob shouting!" one Border said,
"He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is wagging his tail, he is shaking his head,
He has certainly found a Snark!"
They gazed in delight, while one Border exclaimed
"He was always desperate for prey!"
They beheld him--their Alpha--their hero unnamed--
Through the thick of some neighboring hay.
Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
In the next, that wild figure they saw
(As if stung on his *ss) plunged into the grass,
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 the four.
Then followed a torrent of barks and cheers:
Then the ominous words "It's a Bor-"
Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
That sounded like "-der!" but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.
They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not his collar, or fur, or a mark,
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Border 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 Border, you see.
(if you would like to read the true, original poem, you can find it here.)