Then, every place where fashion hies,
Wealth, health, and youth to squander,
I sought—shot folly as it flies,
’Till I could shoot no longer.
Still at the opera, playhouse, clubs,
’Till midnight’s hour I tarried;
Mixed in each scene that fashion dubs
“The Cheese”—before I married.
Soon grown familiar with the town,
Through Pleasure’s haze I hurried;
(Don’t feel alarmed—suppress that frown—
Another glass—you’re flurried)
Subscribed to Crockford’s, betted high—
Such specs too oft miscarried;
My purse was full (nay, check that sigh)—
It was before I married.
At Ascot I was quite the thing,
Where all admired my tandem;
I sparkled in the stand and ring,
Talked, betted (though at random);
At Epsom, and at Goodwood too,
I flying colours carried.
Flatterers and followers not a few
Were mine—before I married.
My cash I lent to every one,
And gay crowds thronged around me;
My credit, when my cash was gone,
’Till bills and bailiffs bound me.
With honeyed promises so sweet,
Each friend his object carried,
Till I was marshalled to the Fleet;
But—’twas before I married.
Then sober thoughts of wedlock came,
Suggested by the papers;
The Sunday Times soon raised a flame,
The Post cured all my vapours;
And spite of what Romance may say
’Gainst courtship so on carried,
Thanks to the fates and fair “Z.A.”
I now am blest and—married.
* * * * *
Jockey Campbell, who has secured 4,000l. a-year by crossing the water and occupying for 20 hours the Irish Woolsack, strongly reminds us of Jason’s Argonautic expedition, after the golden fleece.
* * * * *
NEW CODE OF SIGNALS.
The immense importance of the signals now used in the royal navy, by facilitating the communication between ships at sea; has suggested to an ingenious member of the Scientific Association, the introduction of a telegraphic code of signals to be employed in society generally, where the viva voce mode of communication might be either inconvenient or embarrassing. The inventor has specially devoted his attention to the topics peculiarly interesting to both sexes, and proposes by his system to remove all those impediments to a free and unreserved interchange of sentiment between a lady and gentleman, which feminine timidity on the one side—natural gaucherie on the other—dread of committing one’s self, or fear of transgressing the rules of good breeding, now throw in the way of many well-disposed young persons. He explains his system, by supposing that an unmarried lady and gentleman meet for the first time at a public ball: he is enchanted with the sylph-like grace of the lady in a waltz—she, fascinated with the superb black moustaches of the gentleman. Mutual interest is created in their bosoms, and the gentleman signalizes:—