ove,
Once get him off his traffic-groove!

"Pictures he likes, or books perhaps; 85
And as for buying most and best,
Commend me to these City chaps!
Or else he's social, takes his rest
On Sundays, with a lord for guest.

"Some suburb-palace, parked about 90
And gated grandly, built last year;
The four-mile walk to keep off gout;
Or big seat sold by bankrupt peer--
But then he takes the rail, that's clear.

"Or, stop! I wager, taste selects 95
Some out o' the way, some all-unknown
Retreat; the neighborhood suspects
Little that he who rambles lone
Makes Rothschild tremble on his throne!"

Nowise! Nor Mayfair residence 100
Fit to receive and entertain--
Nor Hampstead villa's kind defense
From noise and crowd, from dust and drain--
Nor country-box was soul's domain!

Nowise! At back of all that spread 105
Of merchandise, woe's me, I find
A hole i' the wall where, heels by head,
The owner couched, his ware behind
--In cupboard suited to his mind.

For why? He saw no use of life 110
But, while he drove a roaring trade,
To chuckle, "Customers are rife!"
To chafe, "So much hard cash outlaid
Yet zero in my profits made!

"This novelty costs pains, but--takes? 115
Cumbers my counter! Stock no more!
This article, no such great shakes,
Fizzes like wildfire? Underscore
The cheap thing--thousands to the fore!"

'Twas lodging best to live most nigh 120
(Cramp, coffinlike as crib might be)
Receipt of Custom; ear and eye
Wanted no outworld: "Hear and see
The bustle in the shop!" quoth he

My fancy of a merchant-prince 125
Was different. Through his wares we groped
Our darkling way to--not to mince
The matter--no black den where moped
The master if we interloped!

Shop was shop only: household-stuff? 130
What did he want with comforts there?
"Walls, ceiling, floor, stay blank and rough,
So goods on sale show rich and rare!
'_Sell and scud home_' be shop's affair!"

What might he deal in