I was pleas’d that he’d notic’d its shape and its shine,
And as soon as we reached the Old Druid,
I begg’d that he’d drink to my new Four-and-nine
In a glass of his favourite fluid,
A gratified smile sat, I own, on my lips
When the landlady called to the master
(He was standing hard by with his hands on his hips),
To “look at the gentleman’s Castor!”
I laugh’d, as an organ-man paus’d in mid-air
(’Twas an air that I happen’d to know,