When late—too late, indeed—it was found out,
That shoals of large Exchequer bills were spurious,
It made, no doubt,
The holders furious—
And indignation grew quite busy with
That fraudful felon, Edward Beaumont Smith,
When prosecuted, at the Queen's expense,
Guilty, he pleaded;
An act that surely did not show his sense,
And little needed,
While he had this defence:—
"Gentlemen,—any frauds by me display'd
Were in the way of trade;
I forged the bills, 'tis true; what then, I ask?
Pray was it, do you think, the sort of task
To earn for me a scourging?
For, since the days of Vulcan, I would know,
Up to this very last Exchequer go,
How could a _Smith_ be great, except in _forging_?"
[Illustration]
[Illustration:
Fancy Portrait.
Forging by _Bill_ Smith—hot work.
]