"I'll give him this one chance -
If he'll more gaily bear him,
Play croquet, smoke, and dance,
I willingly will spare him."

They went, those minions true,
To Assesmilk-cum-Worter,
And told their errand to
The REVEREND HOPLEY PORTER.

"What?" said that reverend gent,
"Dance through my hours of leisure?
Smoke?--bathe myself with scent? -
Play croquet? Oh, with pleasure!

"Wear all my hair in curl?
Stand at my door and wink--so -
At every passing girl?
My brothers, I should think so!

"For years I've longed for some
Excuse for this revulsion:
Now that excuse has come -
I do it on compulsion!!!"

He smoked and winked away -
This REVEREND HOPLEY PORTER -
The deuce there was to pay
At Assesmilk-cum-Worter.