58 TRAVERSE OF THE AIGUILLES ROUGES
(10)
Superior persons in collars and cuffs
Said we ought to be grateful to Heaven.
“Tf young fools will scale inaccessible bluffs
They’re killed—it’s a hundred to seven.”
(11)
They said, “ Without guides, which the Commune provides
No party for big hills should go.”
They said of our pluck “ ’twas the devil’s own luck,”
And they said of our pace—“ it was slow.”
(12)
They spoke but we heard not—We slept like the dead,
Having feasted on Mauler and Bouvier;
And the wind echoed Cecil’s olfactory vessels
That snored “Jolly climb! Alleluvia!”