ay of such an honour.
Therefore, QUEEN ADELAIDE, looking benevolently upon the donkey,
said--"Henceforth, be known to all men as the ROYAL MOSES." A peck of
beans would, probably have been quite as acceptable as the regal prefix;
nevertheless, the ass--like the ass of _Peter Bell_--

"---- the ass, with motion dull,
Turn'd, on the pivot of his skull,
His long left ear!"

The dignity was thus loyally acknowledged by the ennobled donkey, and
QUEEN ADELAIDE departed. And the glory of the Royal Moses grew exceeding
bright. Everybody would ride him. "That roan shall be my throne," cries
_Hotspur_. "For that Moses I proposes," cried every Cockney visitor.
What was the result? No ass could bear to be so put upon. The ass died;
but--it is said--has left several sons behind him; one and all called,
even as the sire, "The Royal Moses". But this is a miserable
imposture--an ignorant, wretched ambition. Asses--assuredly asses on
four legs--have no hereditary titles. There can be but one Royal
Moses--the sons are simply donkeys, and no more.

And London supplies a parallel with Malvern. Once upon a time there was
a Mayor. Now, this Mayor would take upon himself the burden of the
reputation of a Royal Prince; would carry it at public meetings; would
especially insist on trotting with it into Hyde Park? And for what
purpose? We--_Punch_--have written to the old woman at Malvern, the
owner of the dead Royal Moses, to inquire of her--(for at a critical
moment she proved herself a shrewd, worldly-wise old woman)--to inquire
her opinions upon the conduct of our MAYOR, self-burthened with the
crystal glory of a gracious PRINCE. We have received her answer, and
duly give it:--

"TO MR. PUNCH,--The owner of the Royal Moses as was, of QUEEN ADELAIDE
of blessed memory [_this is writ for me by the Parish Clerk_], presents
her duty to _Mr. Punch_, and searching her own bosom for what was there
when she was emboldened to ask a favour of HER MAJESTY--

"The owner of the Royal Moses as was (his sons are like him, as beans
are like beans) thinks the MARE as _will_ trot about with the PRINCE,
only does it that he may--copying of me--say, 'Please your Royal
Highness to give a name to my donkey, or mare, as the case may be.'

"And this, _Mr. Punch_, is my belief, judging from the secrets of my own
breast. And am

"Your Humble and Dutiful Servant,
"The owner of the Royal Moses,
"Her X mark."

"P.S.--Donkeys always on