AN INTERVIEW

I met him down upon the pier;

His eyes were wild and sad,

And something in them made me fear

That he was going mad.

So, being of a prudent sort,

I stood some distance off,

And before speaking gave a short

Conciliatory cough.

I then observed,‘ What makes you look

So singularly glum?’

No notice of my words he took.

I said,‘ Pray, are you dumb?’

‘ Oh no!’ he said,‘ I do not think

My power of speech is lost,

But when one's hopes are black as ink,

Why, talking is a frost.

‘ You see, I'm in for Math. again,

And certain to be ploughed.

Please tell me where I could obtain

An inexpensive shroud.’

I told him where such things are had,

Well made, and not too dear;

And, feeling really very sad,

I left him on the pier.