Or the thousand monotonies known as "The Seaside"—
Ask not whither my fugitive footsteps are led.
For whatever the place, it is ever the same thing;
Poor Paterfamilias always must suffer.
A dyspeptic, a costly, a lame and a tame thing
Is Holiday-time for a family buffer.
Yes! I'm off for my holiday—where I won't mention;
They are pulling the blinds of my drawing-room down:
But next year—if I live—it's my solemn intention
To stay, upon business, en garçon, in Town.