“And I wish I could say ladies: I am asked to sing a song, and I’ll do so with the greatest of pleasure. But before I begin, permit me to make an observation; as I don’t want to wound any gentleman’s feelings, though no fear of that kind will prevent me from expressing my sentiments, which are those of a Briton and a reformer, who has no opinion of the present, looks upon the past with contempt, and only lives for the future.”
“Hear!” from several reformers.
“There’s a good deal to be said against this age; and there’s no abuse which the past don’t deserve! The past! gentlemen, it did for our grandmothers. The present! it does for our fathers. But we, gentlemen—we who possess young and ardent minds——”
“Give us your song!” cried a voice.
“We, gentlemen—we, the young blood of this great nation—we,” cried the orator, swinging his fist, and nearly knocking a cigar out of the mouth of a man at his side, with a face on him filled with idiotic admiration, “are for the future!”
An old man uttered a cheer; the speaker then coughed, swallowed a draught of brandy-and-water, expanded his chest, ran his fingers through his hair, and began as follows, throwing out his arms in approved comic style:—
THE DAYS WHEN I WAS YOUNG.
Of the days when I was young, sir,
Sing the splendour and the fame,
When the fields and woods among, sir,