Mrs. Chub was rich and portly,
Mrs. Chub was very grand,
Mrs. Chub was always reckoned
A lady in the land.
You shall see her marble mansion
In a very stately square,—
Mr. C. knows what it cost him,
But that's neither here nor there.
Mrs. Chub was so sagacious,
Such a patron of the arts,
And she gave such foreign orders
That she won all foreign hearts.
Mrs. Chub was always talking,
When she went away from home,
Of a most prodigious painting
Which had just arrived from Rome.
"Such a treasure," she insisted,
"One might never see again!"
"What's the subject?" we inquired.
"It is Jupiter and Ten!"
"Ten what?" we blandly asked her
For the knowledge we did lack,
"Ah! that I can not tell you,
But the name is on the back.
"There it stands in printed letters,—
Come to-morrow, gentlemen,—
Come and see our splendid painting,
Our fine Jupiter and Ten!"
When Mrs. Chub departed,
Our brains began to rack,—
She could not be mistaken
For the name was on the back.
So we begged a great Professor
To lay aside his pen,
And give some information
Touching "Jupiter and Ten."
And we pondered well the subject,
And our Lempriere we turned,
To find out who the Ten were;
But we could not, though we burned.