“Well! this is not a real mongoose.”—Moral. Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.
Spurius Lartius.—I always liked that story. My father used to tell it.
Marcenas.—Hush, Spurius; the club Vers de société writer is about to favor us.
The Club Vers de Société Writer.—I have, in my pocket, some dainty verses. I have long written rondeaux, triolets, and pantouns.
I have, however, lately invented two new metres.
The first is called a “cabriolet,” and the other is a combination of a pantoun and a triolet, called a pantalet.
I will read them to you if you will be very, very still, for they are as delicate as porcelain:—
A BRITON’S WAIL IN NEW YORK CITY.
(A Cabriolet.)