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“Talkin’ Bout My Generation!” Father William by Lewis Carroll

“You are old, father William,” the young man said,
“And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head —
Do you think, at your age, it is right?”

“In my youth,” father William replied to his son,
“I feared it would injure the brain;
But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door —
Pray, what is the reason of that?”

“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
“I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment — one shilling the box —
Allow me to sell you a couple.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak —
Pray, how did you manage to do it?”

“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.”

“You are old,” said the youth; one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose —
What made you so awfully clever?”

“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
Said his father; “don’t give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I’ll kick you downstairs!”

That is not said right,” said the Caterpillar.
“Not quite right, I’m afraid,” said Alice timidly; “some of the words have got altered.”
“It is wrong from beginning to end,” said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.

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  • Tom Hyland April 6, 2022, 7:26 PM

    Got an hour or so? Pour some scotch and read this. A total delight…

    • Tom Hyland April 6, 2022, 10:10 PM

      This ain’t catching any attention. Another review…. I haven’t read “the Hunting of the Snark” in easily 10 years… and I poured more than one scotch… and read it again…. it takes longer than an hour…. for me at least. Mark Twain met Lewis Carroll… or in a more correct situation of reality… Samuel Clemens met Charles Dodgson and the former was NOT impressed. Sam thought Charles was a crippled and arrested child-like entity incapable of realizing adult-level reality. Carroll was one strange cat. I’ve read books about this guy. I’ve read a lot of Twain and a hell of a lot about Twain. I’ve got a book dissecting “the Snark” and this thing Carroll wrote is ponderous and beautiful, regardless of the author’s tortured existence. The cadence of this poem is impeccable perfection.