of Common Garden--
No, I don't mean that, I mean to say,
That if we were--ahem!--to pay
So much per quarter for our quarterns, [Cries of 'Hear!']
Import our own champagne and ginger-beer;
In short, _small_ duty pay on all we sup--
Ahem!--you understand--I give it up."
The speech was ended,
And Bob descended.
The club was formed. A spicy club it was--
Especially on Saturdays; because
They dined extr'ordinary cheap at five o'clock:
When there were met members of the Dram. A. Soc.
Those of the sock and buskin, artists, court gazetteers--
Odd fellows all--_odder_ than all their club compeers.
Some were sub-editors, others reporters,
And more _illuminati_, joke-importers.
The club was heterogen'ous
By strangers seen as
A refuge for destitute _bons mots_--
_Depot_ for leaden jokes and pewter pots;
Repertory for gin and _jeux d'esprit_,
Literary pound for vagrant rapartee;
Second-hand shop for left-off witticisms;
Gall'ry for Tomkins and Pitt-icisms;[3]
Foundling hospital for every bastard pun;
In short, a manufactory for all sorts of fun!
* * * *
Arouse my muse! such pleasing themes to quit,
Hear me while I say
"_Donnez-moi du frenzy, s'il vous plait!_"[4]
Give me a most tremendous fit
Of indignation, a wild volcanic ebullition,
Or deep anathema,
Fatal as J--d's bah!
To hurl excisemen downward to perdition.
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