THE MASTER’ S PEN — A CONFESSION

IN my collection famed of curios

I have, as every bookman knows,

A pen that Thackeray once used.

To be amused,

I thought I’ d “take that pen in hand,”

And see what came of it — what grand

Inspired lines’ twould write,

One Sunday night.

I dipped it in the ink,

And tried to think,

“Just what shall I indite?”

And do you know, that pen went fairly mad;

A dreadful time with it I had.

It spluttered, spattered, scratched, and blotted so,

I had to give it up, you know.

It really wouldn’ t work for me,

And so I put it down; but last night, after tea,

I took it up again,

And equally in vain.

The hours sped;

I went to bed,

And in my dreams the pen came up to me and said:

“Here is the list of Asses who have tried

To take up pens the master laid aside;

Look thou!” I looked, and lo!— perhaps you’ ve guessed —

My name, like Abou Ben’ s, led all the rest!