Poor Hubby, what would Life be, stripped of this?
And what avail the lunch abstention plan,
If Dinner brings the spleen?
You—you—who have the ordering of the meat,
If you can only compass horrid grub.
When husbands starve—the hansom trim and fleet
Shall whirl them to the Club—
But then, you’ll call it mean!
F. B. Doveton.
Eastbourne, 1885.