The World’s Tragedy

20 THE WORLD’S TRAGEDY. Ga ! Oa ! Hoo ! Hoo ! Scratch ! I must invent a plan To ruin all this gladness. Ha ! Plup ! I have it. There’s nothing here That would accept my favours — Uck ! Bulch ! — So I’ll abuse myself to chaos And see what comes of it. Ha — Ba ! Ha — Ba ! Ab — ab — ab — ab — ab ! Utch — what is this ? Coagulated yolk of the addled egg Of chaos ! Hatch it out ! That’s why I AM. Hoo — hoo — hoo — hoo — hoo ! Oh ! — now the white of the old egg is curdled Into a ragged fleece. Ga ! Ga ! I’ve got a son : What will it be ? O heaven — a lamb ! I’m Yaugh Waugh, Yaugh Waugh. I’ll call it Yaugh Shaugh Waugh. Good ! Can you talk,