That one so old can be so ill advised:
Let him not dare to visit you again,
Your cursed stories will disturb his brain;
Is it not vile to court a foolish boy,
Your own absurd narrations to enjoy?
What! sullen! - ha, George Fletcher! you shall see,
Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!”
He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went,
Then cool’d and felt some qualms of discontent:
And thought on times when he compell’d his son