PREFACE

                                 PREFACE 
 
     If - and the thing  is  wildly  possible  -  the  charge  of  writing
nonsense  were  ever  brought  against  the  author  of  this  brief   but
instructive poem, it would be based, I feel convinced,  on  the  line  (in
p.4)
     "Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes."
     In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I  might)  appeal
indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such  a
deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral  purpose  of  this
poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so  cautiously  inculcated  in
it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History - I will  take  the  more
prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened.
     The Bellman, who was almost  morbidly  sensitive  about  appearances,
used  to  have  the  bowsprit  unshipped  once  or  twice  a  week  to  be
revarnished, and it more than  once  happened,  when  the  time  came  for
replacing it, that no one on board could remember which end of the ship it
belonged to. They knew it was not of the slightest use to  appeal  to  the
Bellman about it - he would only refer to his Naval Code, and read out  in
pathetic tones Admiralty Instructions which none of  them  had  ever  been
able to understand - so it generally  ended  in  its  being  fastened  on,
anyhow, across the rudder. The helmsman used to stand by with tears in his
eyes; he knew it was all wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of  the  Code,  "No  one
shall speak to the Man at the Helm", had been  completed  by  the  Bellman
himself with the words "and the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one." So
remonstrance was impossible, and no steering could be done till  the  next
varnishing day. During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed
backwards.
     As this poem is  to  some  extent  connected  with  the  lay  of  the
Jabberwock, let me take this opportunity of answering a question that  has
often been asked me, how to pronounce "slithy toves." The "i" in  "slithy"
is long, as in "writhe"; and "toves" is pronounced so  as  to  rhyme  with
"groves." Again, the first "o" in "borogoves" is pronounced like  the  "o"
in "borrow." I have heard people try to give it the sound of  the  "o"  in
"worry. Such is Human Perversity.
     This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard works  in
that poem. Humpty-Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed  into  one  word
like a portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.
     For instance, take the two words "fuming" and "furious." Make up your
mind that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which  you  will
say first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts incline ever so
little towards "fuming," you will say "fuming-furious;" if they  turn,  by
even a hair's breadth, towards "furious," you will  say  "furious-fuming;"
but if you have the rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind,  you  will
say "frumious."
     Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words -
     "Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!"
     Justice Shallow had felt  certain  that  it  was  either  William  or
Richard, but had not been able to settle  which,  so  that  he  could  not
possibly say either name before the other, can it be doubted that,  rather
than die, he would have gasped out "Rilchiam!"