"My father was a Brownie, Sir;My mother was a Fairy.The notion had occurred to her,The children would be happier,If they were taught to vary."The notion soon became a craze;And, when it once began, sheBrought us all out in different ways —One was a Pixy, two were Fays,Another was a Banshee;"The Fetch and Kelpie went to schoolAnd gave a lot of trouble;Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),A Goblin, and a Double —"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf,"He added with a yawn,"I'll take a pinch) — next came an Elf,And then a Phantom (that's myself),And last, a Leprechaun."One day, some Spectres chanced to call,Dressed in the usual white:I stood and watched them in the hall,And couldn't make them out at all,They seemed so strange a sight."I wondered what on earth they were,That looked all head and sack;But Mother told me not to stare,And then she twitched me by the hair,And punched me in the back."Since then I've often wished that IHad been a Spectre born.But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh.)"They are the ghost-nobility,And look on us with scorn."My phantom-life was soon begun:When I was barely six,I went out with an older one —And just at first I thought it fun,And learned a lot of tricks.