WHEN I look at my diligent neighbours,
Each wholly convinced in his mind
That the fruit of his personal labours
Will be the reform of mankind,
When I notice the bland satisfaction
That brightens the features of each--
Commendably prudent in action,
Though mighty in speech--
Observing by dint of persistence
What wide reputation they gain,
The clew to a happy existence
Is rendered increasingly plain,
Because the self-satisfied feeling
I covet may quickly be had
By any one owning (or stealing)
A suitable fad.
Shall I hotly oppose Vivisection?
Grow warm on the Drainage of Flats?
Or strive for the Better Protection
Of Commons, Cathedrals, or Cats?
Perhaps in orations that thrill, I
For freedom (and fever) will fight--
A portion of small-pox bacilli
Is simply our right!
However, the choice is a detail;
Whatever the fad be about,
To trade in it, wholesale and retail,
To preach it, in season and out,
And so to be reckoned a leader
(Although there be little to lead),
Yes, that’s, O incredulous reader,
The way to succeed!
You find that existence is hollow,
The fight for position is hard.
A remedy? Yes, if you’ll follow
This way, to the fad-monger’s yard:
Come, here is a hobby--astride it
You settle; I tighten the girth--
So-off, and good-luck to you! Ride it
For all it is worth!
_Anthony C. Deane._