During a late election LordRoehampton strained a vocal chordFrom shouting, very loud and high,To lots and lots of people whyThe Budget in his own opin--Ion should not be allowed to win.
sought a Specialist, who said:"You have a swelling in the head:Your Larynx is a thought relaxedAnd you are greatly over-taxed."
"I am indeed! On every side!"The Earl (for such he was) replied
In hoarse excitement.... "Oh! My Lord,You jeopardize your vocal chord!"Broke in the worthy Specialist."Come! Here's the treatment! I insist!To Bed! to Bed! And do not speakA single word till Wednesday week,When I will come and set you free(If you are cured) and take my fee."
On Wednesday week the Doctor hiresA Brand-new Car with Brand-new TyresAnd Brand-new Chauffeur all completeFor visiting South Audley Street.
But what is this? No Union JackFloats on the Stables at the back!No Toffs escorting Ladies fairPerambulate the Gay Parterre.A 'Scutcheon hanging lozenge-wiseAnd draped in crape appals his eyesUpon the mansion's ample door,To which he wades through
heaps of Straw,And which a Butler
This is the first and only time That I have used this sort of Rhyme.
drowned in tears,On opening but confirms his fears:"Oh! Sir!—Prepare to hear the worst!...Last night my kind old master burst.And what is more, I doubt if heHas left enough to pay your fee.The Budget——"
With a dreadful oath,The Specialist,
denouncing bothThe Budget and the House of Lords,Buzzed angrily Bayswaterwards.
And ever since, as I am told,Gets it beforehand; and in gold.
Lord Calvin thought the Bishops should not sitAs Peers of Parliament.
And argued it!In spite of which, for years, and years, and years,They went on sitting with their fellow-peers.
Lord Henry Chase
What happened to Lord Henry Chase?He got into a
Libel Case!The Daily Howl had said that he—But could not prove it perfectlyTo Judge or Jury's satisfaction:His Lordship, therefore,
won the action.But, as the damages were small,
He gave them to a Hospital.
Lord Heygate had a troubled face,His furniture was commonplace—The sort of Peer who well might passFor someone of the middle class.I do not think you want to hearAbout this unimportant Peer,So let us leave him to discourseAbout Lord Epsom and his horse.
A Horse, Lord Epsom did bestrideWith mastery and quiet pride.He dug his spurs into its hide.
discerning it was pricked,Incontinently
bucked and kicked,A thing that no one could predict!Lord Epsom clearly understoodThe High-bred creature's nervous mood,
As only such a horseman could.Dismounting,
he was heard to sayThat it was kinder to delayHis pleasure to a future day
He had the Hunter led away.
Lord Finchley tried to mend the Electric LightHimself.
It struck him dead: And serve him right!It is the business of the wealthy manTo give employment to the artisan.
Lord Ali-Baba was a TurkWho hated every kind of work,And would repose for hours at easeWith
Houris seated on his knees.A happy life!—Until, one day
Mossoo Alphonse Effendi Bey(A Younger Turk: the very creamAnd essence of the New Regime)Dispelled this Oriental dreamBy granting him a place at Court,High Coffee-grinder to the Porte,Unpaid:—
In which exalted PostHis Lordship yielded up the ghost.
Lord Hippo suffered fearful loss
By putting money on a horseWhich he believed, if it were pressed,Would run far faster than the rest:Forsomeone who was in the know
Had confidently told him so.
on the morning of the raceIt only took
the seventh place!
Picture the Viscount's great surprise!He scarcely could believe his eyes!He sought the Individual whoHad laid him odds at 9 to 2,Suggesting as a useful tipThat they should enter PartnershipAnd put to joint account the debtArising from his foolish bet.
But when the Bookie—oh! my word,I only wish you could have heardThe way he roared he did not think,And hoped that they might strike him pink...!