I turned to the dictionary
For a word I couldn't spell,
And closed the book when I found it
And dipped my pen in the well.
Then I thought to myself, "How was it?"
With a sense of inward pain,
And still 'twas a little doubtful,
So I turned to the book again.
This time I remarked, "How easy!"
As I muttered each letter o'er,
But when I got to the inkwell
'Twas gone, as it went before.
Then I grabbed that dictionary
And I sped its pages through,
And under my nose I put it
With that doubtful word in view.
I held it down with my body
While I gripped that pen quite fast,
And I howled, as I traced each letter:
"I've got you now, _at last_!"
[Footnote 5: Lippincott's Magazine.]