And when the Glugs hear them and mark what they mean
The land shall be purged and the nation made clean."'

So Sym gave a promise to write then and there
Three rhymes to be read in the Great Market Square
To all Glugs assembled on Saturday week.
"And then," said the Mayor, "if still you must seek
To return to your tramping, well, just have your fling;
But I'll make you a marquis, or any old thing . . ."
Said Sym, "I shall tinker, and still be a king."



IX. THE RHYMES OF SYM

Nobody knew why it should be so;
Nobody knew or wanted to know.
It might have been checked had but someone dared
To trace its beginnings; but nobody cared.
But 'twas clear to the wise that the Glugs of those days
Were crazed beyond reason concerning a craze.

They would pass a thing by for a week or a year,
With an air apathetic, or maybe a sneer:
Some ev'ryday thing, like a crime or a creed,
A mode or a movement, and pay it small heed,
Till Somebody started to laud it aloud;
Then all but the Nobodies followed the crowd.

Thus, Sym was a craze; tho', to give him his due,