THE FOUR NOBLE BURGLARS.
A Baron, a Marquis, a Duke, and an Earl
Were dining together one evening at White's;
They were all overdone by the worry and whirl
Of a long London season's amusements and sights—
By the luncheons that stupify, dinners that tire,
Dull rides in the Row, deadly five o'clock teas,
At which fashion condemns you to gasp and perspire
While draining the cup of ennui to the lees.
No pleasure they took in the joys of the table;
Though stalwart, they recked not to breakfast or sup—
E'en to plunge at bézique they no longer were able,
For the fact was these nobles were deuced hard up!
Moaned the Marquis, "We're all in a state of depression;
As for me, my existence is simply a bore;
Let us strike a new line out—adopt some profession
Which no British Peer ever practised before."
Then the Baron cried, "Listen, old chappies; I've hit
On a notion that's brilliant and perfectly new;—
Why shouldn't we four try to burgle a bit,
And wrest from the wealthy what's fairly our due?
Garotting is vulgar, and cruel to boot,
The pickpocket oft is despised when detected;
But burglary's just the profession to suit
A lover of enterprise, highly connected."
A paper was fetched, and his Grace read aloud
The following paragraph:—"Criminal Tips!
Young Nobles and Gentlemen under a cloud
Apply to Professor Jehoshaphat Fipps,
At his residence, 2, Sheppard Buildings, E.C.,
Where he nightly gives lessons, from seven till nine,
To youngsters of spirit, from prejudice free,
In arts which amusement with profit combine."
Next evening the Peers, fully dressed for their parts
In moleskin and highlows and flat beaver-caps,
Sought out the Professor with quick-throbbing hearts,
Their courage all but in a state of collapse.
Mr. Fipps gave them seats; then politely inquired,
If aught to oblige them perchance he could do,
And replied, when they told him what 'twas they required,
"All right, noble sportsmen!—I'll soon put you through!"
He taught them to handle the jemmy with grace,
To frisk with the centrebit, toy with the file—
To flourish the fitful dark-lantern apace,
And wield the gay crowbar in elegant style;
With skeleton-keys to pick counting-house locks,
To ply the dumb saw and the chisel that's cold,
To prize up the lid of a banker's strong-box,
And the portals of burglar-proof safes to unfold.
When their Lordships were thoroughly versed in their trade,
And had passed their exams, in a masterly way,
They agreed that a dashing attempt should be made,
Their expertness to test without further delay.
Should they first try their hands at a light, easy job,
Not too risky, but graceful, artistic and neat,
Or essay a bold stroke the Exchequer to rob,
Or the merry Old Lady of Threadneedle Street?
At last they resolved that the best thing to do,
Was to try an experiment, just for a lark,
(And to keep their hands in for a lucrative coup,)
On a workman's abode near Victoria Park.
They hankered for something quite simple and plain,
Both suburban and poor, for their trial essay;
So they picked out a one-storeyed house down a lane,
Which they learned had been empty for many a day.
They commenced their attack in the dead of the night,
Scaled a wall, dug a tunnel, and cut through two floors,
Wrenched a lock off with stern, irresistible might,
And broke open some thoroughly unsecured doors.
For booty they hunted below and on high—
But naught could they find save a chunk of cold veal,
Till, down in the basement, they chanced to espy,
Near the back-kitchen sink a huge trapdoor of steel.
In a second the trap from its fastness they tore,
When, heaped up pell-mell, of all shapes and all sizes,
The gratified Peers beheld score upon score
Of grand and legitimate housebreakers' prizes,—
Tiaras of rubies and diamond rivières,
Superb jewelled bracelets and brooches and rings,
Great emerald, sapphire, and pearl solitaires,
And all manner of precious, magnificent things.
As they gazed on these treasures with glittering eyes,
Lightly handling the gewgaws with delicate touches,
The Duke softly murmured, "Oh! what a surprise!
Why, some of these trinkets belong to the Duchess!"
"By Jove!" said the Marquis, "this carcanet here
Has been worn scores of times by my dowager-aunt!"
And the Baron rejoined, "It seems perfectly clear
That this squalid abode is a regular plant!"
"What a joke!" cried the Earl. "We have chanced on the ken
Of professional brethren, our seniors in guile,
And I think that, for young inexperienced men,
We have collared their plunder in workmanlike style.
Let us cull and remove these nefarious hoards—
We can turn the whole lot into cash at our leisure;
A delightful career is before us, my Lords,
A bright future of usefulness, profit, and pleasure!"
The next day they disposed of their swag for a plum,
And invested the proceeds in Spaniards and Turks,
After nobly deducting a moderate sum
For the Burglar's Relief Fund and other good works.
They paid all their creditors, kept up their rank.
Betted ponies and monkeys like regular "toppers;"
Till one night, as they'd just broken into a bank,
These deserving young nobles were nailed by the "coppers."
The Old Bailey was crowded one sunny May morn
With ladies arrayed in superlative frocks,
When the jury who sate on our nobles forlorn,
Found them guilty at once, without leaving the box.
And it thus came to pass, I regret to relate,
That these earnest, industrious, well-meaning Peers,
The pride of their order, the stay of the State,
Were condemned to pick oakum for twenty-one years!
A Word for the War-Office.—Mrs. Ramsbotham says it's all very well to talk about the parsimony of the War-Office; but she hears that the soldiers are provided with fatigue jackets, and thinks it's really kind of the Authorities to supply the men with something special to wear when they are tired.