Collected Works (Vol. III)

WHY JESUS WEPT 49 — it is, I am told, an innocent child’s game !—one of the factory hands; and—he stumbled. He was sawn slowly into no less than thirty-eight pieces. Sir HERPEs Z. But how does this bear on the case ? SIR GRABSON J. Dying without issue, he has left all to Sir Percy here ; the King (cheers from large but unseen body of retainers, who have been eavesdropping), moreover, unwilling that the Marquisate should die out, will bestow it on the same lucky young fellow. SiR HERPES Z, This is marvellous news ! S1R GRABSON J. Again, Lady Baird has just perished in awful agony. Having suffered for twenty years from a hideous and incurable disease, she brought matters to a climax last night by falling into a barrel of boiling sulphuric acid. Sir HERPES Z. How so? SIR GRABSON J, It was her bath-night. Sir HERPES Z. Ah! enamel! But why did it hurt her? SIR GRABSON J. (Jmpressively.) It is the finger of God ! The Poet concludes. Now I have written four-and-twenty hours Without a decent rest by Kandy Lake. VOL. Ill. I invoke the urgent elemental powers To bring all to an end for Buddha’s sake. I must bid all ye matrons fond farewell, Knowing your inmost thoughts; that, had ye dared, Ye would be just as far e rouze for hell As Angela, the gentle Lady Baird ; And all ye youths, aware that Percy’s fall Is something to be envied of ye all ; And all ye parsons, seeing that ye pray Your Father for the Luck of Lord Glen- strae. Enough of this! Insistent Fates Bid me return to rhyming 8s. I say what I have seen ill done In honest clean-lived Albion ; And if these things the green tree grows, What price the dry, my lords? Who knows ? You say that I exaggerate ; That ‘‘ we are not as had as that.” (Excuse the doubtful tag of verse !) Au contratre, you are vastly worse. I see the virtuous and the vicious, The sans reproche and the suspicious, All tarred with the same nasty tar, Because—I see you as you are. Permit me to reduce the list Of optimist and pessimist By just my name! Iam neither, friends. I knowa stick has got two ends ! Nothing were easier than to show That Lady Baird avoided woe; And Lord Glenstrae, that worthy peer, Saved whisky by supplying beer. For what is good, and makes for peace, What evil, wisdom must increase Well near omniscience before One guesses what it all is for. Still, since de eustibus non est— (My schoolboy readers know the rest !) I much prefer—that is, mere I— Solitude to Society. And that is why I sit and spoil So much clean paper with such toil By Kandy Lake in far Ceylon. I have my old pyjamas on :