Your choice, my little gran'son;
You'll bear it to the deathless halls
Of CHRISTIE, WOODS, AND MANSON.
So, when the fateful hammer sounds,
And you have cashed in rhino
A cheque for, haply, forty pounds,
You'll bless your grandsire, I know;
Who, while his fortunes failed, and much
Was life's horizon o'ercast,
Created souvenirs with such