A short tale of mirth and nonsense. In verse. Divided into Fittes.
Our fearless adventurers set sail in search of the snark, and insanity ensues. . . .
"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.
"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-wisp.