Ah, Bagpuss, you've mentioned the sacred text: Jabberwocky!

Not that I was REQUIRED to memorize it (at least by grownups). In high school my two principal co-conspirators (or partners in crime, if you like that expression better) and I had "a club" called The Royal Order of Borogoves. As I recall, the entire purpose of this club was to have Jabberwocky--the whole thing!--as our password. As I recall, the chief duty of a loyal Borogove was to get mimsy on Saturday night. (Noticeable lump of tongue in cheek here.)

A couple of years ago I attended the 50th reunion of my high school class. All three of us old buddies were there, hadn't seen each other in at least 47 years, and then only in passing. Just as the dinner was breaking up, I said to Bruce and Norman: "Hey, we haven't said the password!"

As soon as we left the banquet hall, with one accord and in loud tones we declaimed the full Jabberwocky, with appropriate histrionics, while our respective wives looked on in awe that we all remembered it in detail after nigh on fifty years!

Dave Oesterreich