And held the customary talk
That parents love to use.

(And oft I turn it into verse,
And write it down upon a page,
Which, being sold, supplies my purse
And ministers to age.)

So as we paced the curving High,
To view the sights of Oxford town
We raised our feet (like Nelly Bly),
And then we put them down.

'Now, little Edward, answer me'--
I said, and clutched him by the gown--
'At Cambridge would you rather be,
Or here in Oxford town?'

My boy replied with tiny frown
(He'd been a year at Cavendish),
'I'd rather dwell in Oxford town,
If I could have my wish.'

'Now, little Edward, say why so;
My little Edward, tell me why.'
'Well, really, Pa, I hardly know.'
'Remarkable!' said I:

'For Cambridge has her "King's Parade,"
And much the more becoming gown;