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the Earl of Potamus,
And brokenly addressed him thus:
"Dread Sire—to-day—at Ascot—I ..."
His genial parent made reply:
Come! Come! Come! Come! Don't look so glum!
Trust your Papa and name the sum....

What?

... Fifteen hundred thousand?... Hum!
However ... stiffen up, you wreck;
Boys will be boys—so here's the cheque!
Lord Hippo, feeling deeply—well,
More grateful than he cared to tell—
Punted the lot on Little Nell:—
And got a telegram at dinner
To say

that he had backed the Winner!

Lord Uncle Tom

Lord Uncle Tom was different from
What other nobles are.
For they are yellow or pink, I think,
But he was black as tar.

He had his Father's debonair
And rather easy pride:
But his complexion and his hair

Were from the mother's side.

He often mingled in debate
And latterly displayed

Experience of peculiar weight
Upon the Cocoa-trade.

But now He speaks no more. The Bill
Which he could not abide,
It preyed upon his mind until
He sickened, paled, and died.

Lord Lucky

Lord Lucky, by a curious fluke,
Became a most important duke.
From living in a vile Hotel

A long way east of Camberwell

He rose, in less than half an hour,
To riches, dignity and power.
It happened in the following way:—
The Real Duke went out one day
To shoot with several people, one

Of whom had never used a gun.
This gentleman (a Mr. Meyer
Of Rabley Abbey, Rutlandshire),
As he was scrambling through the brake,

Discharged his weapon by mistake,
And plugged about an ounce of lead
Piff-bang into his Grace's Head——
Who naturally fell down dead.

His heir, Lord Ugly, roared, "You Brute!

Take that to teach you how to shoot!"
Whereat