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Hiawathas photographing ( Part II )

 First the Governor, the Father: 
He suggested velvet curtains 
looped about a massy pillar; 
And the corner of a table, 
Of a rosewood dining-table.
He would hold a scroll of something, Hold it firmly in his left-hand; He would keep his right-hand buried (Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat; He would contemplate the distance With a look of pensive meaning, As of ducks that die in tempests.
Grand, heroic was the notion: Yet the picture failed entirely: Failed, because he moved a little, Moved, because he couldn't help it.
Next, his better half took courage; She would have her picture taken.
She came dressed beyond description, Dressed in jewels and in satin Far too gorgeous for an empress.
Gracefully she sat down sideways, With a simper scarcely human, Holding in her hand a bouquet Rather larger than a cabbage.
All the while that she was sitting, Still the lady chattered, chattered, Like a monkey in the forest.
"Am I sitting still ?" she asked him.
"Is my face enough in profile? Shall I hold the bouquet higher? Will it come into the picture?" And the picture failed completely.

Poem by Lewis Carroll
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