[Illustration:
Admiral De Witt.
]
Pray, who is the fellow of infinite fun,
Of whom men declare that his _wit_, like the _sun_,
Shines and sparkles along—that its bright sallies glide
Like a fresh summer river at flow of its _tide_?—
Why, join wit, sun, and tide, and it's perfectly clear
You mean jolly young _Whitsuntide_—Prince of the year!
[Illustration:
MAY—Settling for the Derby—Long odds and long faces.
]