Let every servant feel as great,
As if his Master's whole estate
Were meant to furnish prog and pelf
But for his individual self.
The Cook, for instance, thinks it queer
If twenty thousand pounds a-year
Won't make the household richly dine,—
And so the Butler thinks of wine.
Groom, Coachman, all the rest 'run on,'
Till sometimes all the money's gone.