he never cried amàn;

He never sank his sword before the
PRINCE OF FRANGHISTAN;
But with traitors all around him, his
star upon the wane,

He heard the voice of ALLAH, and he

would not strive in vain.

'Prince Thomas is my eldest son, A sober Prince is he,

And from the day we breech'd him
Till now, he's twenty-three,
He never caused disquiet

To his poor Mamma or me.

"At school they never flogg'd him,
At college, though not fast,
Yet his little-go and great-go

He creditably pass'd,
And made his year's allowance
For eighteen months to last.

"He never owed a shilling,
Went never drunk to bed,

"While Tom his legal studies
Most soberly pursues,
Poor Ned must pass his mornings
A-dawdling with the Muse:
While Tom frequents his banker,
Young Ned frequents the Jews.

"Ned drives about in buggies,
Tom sometimes takes a 'bus;
Ah, cruel fate, why made you
My children differ thus ?
Why make of Tom a dullard,
And Ned a genius?"

"You'll cut him with a shilling,"

Exclaimed the man of wits:

"I'll leave my wealth," said Brentford, "Sir Lawyer, as befits; And portion both their fortunes Unto their several wits."

"Your Grace knows best," the lawyer

said;

"On your commands I wait." "Be silent, Sir," says Brentford, "A plague upon your prate! Come take your pen and paper,

And write as I dictate.'

The will as Brentford spoke it

Was writ and signed and closed; He bade the lawyer leave him,

And turn'd him round and dozed ; And next week in the churchyard

The good old King reposed.

Tom, dressed in crape and hatband,

Of mourners was the chief; In bitter self-upbraidings

Poor Edward showed his grief : Tom hid his fat white countenance In his pocket-handkerchief.