" And did you really walk, " said I,
" On such a wretched night?
I always fancied Ghosts could fly —
If not exactly in the sky,
Yet at a fairish height. "

" It 's very well, " said he, " for Kings
To soar above the earth:
But Phantoms often find that wings —
Like many other pleasant things —
Cost more than they are worth.

" Spectres of course are rich, and so
Can buy them from the Elves:
But we prefer to keep below —
They're stupid company, you know,
For any but themselves:

" For, though they claim to be exempt
From pride, they treat a Phantom
As something quite beneath contempt —
Just as no Turkey ever dreamt
Of noticing a Bantam. "

" They seem too proud, " said I, " to go
To houses such as mine.
Pray, how did they contrive to know
So quickly that " the place was low,"
And that I " kept bad wine"? "

" Inspector Kobold came to you — "
The little Ghost began.
Here I broke in — " Inspector who?
Inspecting Ghosts is something new!
Explain yourself, my man! "

" His name is Kobold, " said my guest:
" One of the Spectre order:
You 'll very often see him dressed
In a yellow gown, a crimson vest,
And a night-cap with a border.

" He tried the Brocken business first,
But caught a sort of chill;
So came to England to be nursed,
And here it took the form of thirst ,
Which he complains of still.

" Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound,
Warms his old bones like nectar:
And as the inns, where it is found,
Are his especial hunting-ground,
We call him the Inn-Spectre . "

I bore it — bore it like a man —
This agonizing witticism!
And nothing could be sweeter than
My temper, till the Ghost began
Some most provoking criticism.

" Cooks need not be indulged in waste;
Yet still you 'd better teach them
Dishes should have some sort of taste.
Pray, why are all the cruets placed
Where nobody can reach them?

" That man of yours will never earn
His living as a waiter!
Is that queer thing supposed to burn?
(It 's far too dismal a concern
To call a Moderator.)

" The duck was tender, but the peas
Were very much too old:
And just remember, if you please,
The next time you have toasted cheese,
Don't let them send it cold.

" You 'd find the bread improved, I think,
By getting better flour:
And have you anything to drink
That looks a little less like ink,
And isn't quite so sour? "

Then, peering round with curious eyes,
He muttered " Goodness gracious!'
And so went on to criticize —
" Your room 's an inconvenient size:
It 's neither snug nor spacious.

" That narrow window, I expect,
Serves but to let the dusk in — "
" But please, " said I, " to recollect
'Twas fashioned by an architect
Who pinned his faith on Ruskin! "

" I don't care who he was, Sir, or
On whom he pinned his faith!
Constructed by whatever law,
So poor a job I never saw,
As I 'm a living Wraith!

" What a re-markable cigar!
How much are they a dozen? "
I growled " No matter what they are!
You 're getting as familiar
As if you were my cousin!

" Now that 's a thing I will not stand ,
And so I tell you flat. "
" Aha, " said he, " we 're getting grand! "
(Taking a bottle in his hand)
" I 'll soon arrange for that! "

And here he took a careful aim,
And gaily cried " Here goes! "
I tried to dodge it as it came,
But somehow caught it, all the same,
Exactly on my nose.

And I remember nothing more
That I can clearly fix,
Till I was sitting on the floor,
Repeating " Two and five are four,
But five and two are six. "

What really passed I never learned,
Nor guessed: I only know
That, when at last my sense returned,
The lamp, neglected, dimly burned —
The fire was getting low —

Through driving mists I seemed to see
A Thing that smirked and smiled:
And found that he was giving me
A lesson in Biography,
As if I were a child.