THE AGED AGED MAN by Lewis Carroll

The Aged Aged Man
by Lewis Carroll

I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,"
And how is it you live?
"And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.

He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread -
A trifle; if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said, I cried,
"Come, tell me how you live!
"And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar-Oil -
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!"

He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,And work them into waistcoat buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way" (he gave a wink)"
By which I get my wealth -
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health."

I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.

And now, if e'er by chance
I putMy fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know -
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo -
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.

Your journey to school in the style of Durrell - BRILLIANT work by Rasyidah

Journey To School With My Ani-car

When I walk out my front door, my cheetah rises up from its previous Spinx-like pose, a deadpan expression on his face as if to say ‘Took you long enough’ mockingly at me, all geared up and ready for the day. He greets me with a soft growl, as though he is warning me that I better not have left anything behind. It is how we always start our mornings, my easily-exasperated cheetah and I.

We immediately take off as soon as I have climbed aboard, with me clamping my legs against him and hugging my things tightly in a desperate effort to not be thrown overboard. We sprint swiftly along the hissing road, which seems more than a little eager to be rid of us. Occasionally, we have to stop at the red-lighted teasings of the irritating traffic lights, waiting impatiently to just dash away when the infuriating annoyances would finally give up their tasteless jokes. Apart from the law-abiding pauses we are required to make, we mostly just weave through the jungle of morning traffic, with an assortment of other animals racing with us against the clock to school.

Horses gallop near the front of the crowd, birds glide on air-currents above our heads, snakes slither between the feet of their competitors and each other, getting themselves hopelessly entangled. Elephants thump their way through the bestial mass of the traffic, shaking the roads and thus making it harder for us to move on the earthquaked roads. There are also ants in the traffic, each of them carrying a cluster of about five children. Rabbits hop along with all of us, sometimes managing to jump onto and from the heads of the other animals. Cats prowl silently alongside the horde, making use of any nooks, crannies and whatever space available to move ahead of their contenders. My trusty and road-worthy cheetah easily manages to pass all of them, taking the lead.

Though that cheetah of mine always complains about my tardiness of causing our need to rush, I can tell that he secretly enjoys our impromptu morning races and that beating those animals stroke his pride in his speed. I, on the other hand, am just grateful that his extraordinary speed gets me to school on time though I do wish he could be a bit less cocky about it.

-Rasyidah Abdullah, A4, Block 1.