MY APOLOGIA.
(Lines accidentally omitted from a notorious volume of Memoirs.)
If life is dull and day by day
I see that wittier, wiser
England where I was wont to play
(Being as bold as I was gay)
Keep passing rapidly away
All through the German Kaiser;
If "Souls" are not the things they were,
If caste declines and Vandals
Go practically everywhere
From Cavendish to Berkeley Square,
And dowdy frumps without the "air"
Monopolise the scandals;
There is but one thing left to do—
And what's a sporting flutter worth
Unless one takes a risk or two?—
"I'll shock the world," I thought, "anew,"
And (ultimately) did so through
The firm of Thornton Butterworth.
Two worlds indeed. The mighty West
Poured out her untold money
To gaze upon my palimpsest;
I think that Codex A was best,
But parts of this have been suppressed;
Publishers are so funny.
And now my fame through London rings
In well-bred speech and argot;
At mild suburban tea-makings
The postman knocks, and poor dear things
Tear wildly at the parcel-strings
When Mudie gives them Margot.
Pressmen have tried to make a lot
Out of a certain instance
Of mild misstatement as to what
Happened in 1914. Rot!
All I can say is that my plot
Has much more verve than Winston's.
Well, never mind. The work is done;
People who do not need it—
The wit, the fire, the force, the fun,
The pathos—let them simply shun
This frightful book, shout "Shame!" and run;
Nobody's forced to read it.
Evoe.
Dentist (after preliminary inspection). "Extraordinary thing—there's one of your teeth only half stopped."
Patient. "Ah, that were t'oother dentist. T' laad 'urt me, so ah gave 'im a good lick in t' jaw."