MARK TWAIN

Land of the Ornithorhynchus,

Land of the kangaroo,
Old ties of heredity link us.

Here he pauses for breath and to dig up a
rhyme, apparently without success, for pres-
ently he proceeds:

Land of the fruitful rabbit,
Land of the boomerang,

Another pause, equally hopeless, then

Come forth from thy oozy couch,

Oh Ornithorhynchus dear,
And greet with a cordial claw,

The stranger that longs to hear
From thy own lips the tale

Of thy origin all unknown.
Thy bone where flesh should be

And flesh where should be bone.
And fin of fish where should be paw.

And beaver trowel tail,
And lungs of beast and teeth of beast,

Where gills ought to prevail.

Come, kangaroo, the good and true,

Foreshortened as to legs,
And body tapered like a churn,

And sack marsupial fegsj
And tell us why you linger here

Thou relic of a vanished time,
When all your friends as fossils sleep,

Immortalized in rhyme.

New Years, 1896. Sailed at noon for Ceylon.
Jan. 4. Lying in roadstead at Albany all day. At seven
strong breeze, got up the anchor. Small pilot in elabor-

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