"Lord A. B. C. will return to town to-morrow."--[_Any
"Fashionable Intelligence" column._]
I'm but a plebeian, I know,
But feelings as ardent as mine
May feel a legitimate glow
On reading this eloquent line;
Though Fate has denied me as yet
A fame or a fortune renowned,
By items like these I can feel when I please
An aristocrat down to the ground!
The fact that I never have seen
The gentleman mentioned--as soon
I'd fly as distinguish between
Himself and the Man in the Moon--
Has little to do with the case;
My knowledge, I frankly confess,
Of the doings of those who our "classes" compose
Is wholly derived from the Press.
But eagerly over my tea
My eyes on this volume I cast,
I read of engagements to be,
Of dances and _fêtes_ of the past,
I learn with the deepest regret
That the Duke of X. Y. is unwell,
And with pleasure I glow that the Marquis of O.
Has dined with the Duchess of L.!
In fact, as I muse in a dream,
The charm that this column extends
Makes all the nobility seem
My intimate personal friends;
Political leaders are bosh,
And Foreign Intelligence stuff,
Just print up to date the deeds of the great,
And I shall be happy enough!
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