Wish I could take you; but fame travels fast,--
A man of much newspaper-paragraph,
You scare domestic circles; and beside
Would not you like your lot, that second taste
Of nature and approval of the grounds!
You might walk early or lie late, so shirk
Week-day devotions: but stay Sunday o'er,
And morning church is obligatory:
No mundane garb permissible, or dread
The butler's privileged monition! No!
Pack off to Paris, nor wipe tear away!_'
Whereon how artlessly the happy flash
Followed, by inspiration! '_Tell you what--
Let's turn their flank, try things on t'other side!
Inns for my money! Liberty's the life!
We'll lie in hiding: there's the crow-nest nook,
The tourist's joy, the Inn they rave about,
Inn that's out--out of sight and out of mind
And out of mischief to all four of us--
Aunt and niece, you and me. At night arrive;
At morn, find time for just a Pisgah-view
Of my friend's Land of Promise; then depart.
And while I'm whizzing onward by first train,
Bound for our own place (since my Brother sulks
And says I shun him like the plague) yourself--
Why, you have stepped thence, start from platform, gay
Despite the sleepless journey,--love lends wings,--
Hug aunt and niece who, none the wiser, wait
The faithful advent! Eh?_' '_With all my heart_,'
Said I to you; said I to mine own self:
'_Does he believe I fail to comprehend
He wants just one more final friendly snack
At friend's exchequer ere friend runs to earth,
Marries, renounces yielding friends such sport?_'
And did I spoil sport, pull face grim,--nay, grave?
Your pupil does you better credit! No!
I parleyed with my pass-book,--rubbed my pair
At the big balance in my banker's hands,--
Folded a cheque cigar-case-shape,--just wants
Filling and signing,--and took train, resolved
To execute myself with decency
And let you win--if not Ten thousand quite,
Something by way of wind-up-farewell burst
Of firework-nosegay! Where's your fortune fled?
Or is not fortune constant after all?
You lose ten thousand pounds: had I lost half
Or half that, I should bite my lips, I think.
You man of marble! Strut and stretch my best
On tiptoe, I shall never reach your height.
How does the loss feel! Just one lesson more!"

The more refined man smiles a frown away.

O