At BROOKES’s once, it so fell out,
The box was push’d with glee about;
With mirth reciprocal inflam’d,
’Twas said they rather play’d than gam’d;
A general impulse through them ran,
And seem’d t’ actuate every man:
But as all human pleasures tend
At some sad moment to an end,
The hour at last approach’d, when lo!
’Twas time tor every one to go.
Now for the first time it was seen,
A certain sum unown’d had been;
To no man’s spot directly fixt,
But plac’d—ambiguously betwixt:
So doubtfully indeed it lay,
That none with confidence could say
This cash is mine—I’m certain on’t—
But most declined with—“Sir, I won’t”—
“I can’t in conscience urge a right,
To what I am not certain quite.”
—NORTHUMBRIA’S DUKE, who wish’d to put
An end to this polite dispute,
Whose generous nature yearn’d to see
The smallest seeds of enmity,
Arose and said—“this cash is mine— }
For being ask’d to-day to dine, }
You see I’m furbelow’d and fine, }
With full-made sleeves and pendant lace;
Rely on’t, this was just the case,
That when by chance my arm I mov’d,
The money from me then I shov’d;
This clearly shews how it was shifted,”
Thus said, the rhino then he lifted;—
“Hold, hold, my Lord,” says thoughtless HARE,
Who never made his purse his care;
A man who thought that money’s use
Was real comfort to produce,
And all the pleasures scorn’d to know
Which from its snug enjoyments flow;
Such as still charm their gladden’d eyes,
Who feel the bliss of avarice.
“Hold, hold, my Lord, how is it known
This cash is certainly your own?
We each might urge as good a plea,
Or WYNDHAM, CRAUFURD, SMITH, or me;
But we, though less it were to blame,
Disdain’d so pitiful a claim;
Then here let me be arbitrator—
I vote the money to the waiter,”
Thus oft will generous folly think:
But prudence parts not so with chink.
On this occasion so it was,
For gravely thus my Lord Duke says:
“Consider, Sir, how large the sum,
To full eight guineas it will come:
Shall I, for your quaint verbal play,
Consign a whole estate away?
Unjust, ridiculous, absurd,
I will not do it, on my word;
Yet rather than let fools deride,
I give my fiat to divide;
So ’twixt the waiter and myself,
Place equal portions of the pelf;
Thus eighty shillings give to RALPH,
To ALNWICK’s DUKE the other half.”
HARE and the rest (unthinking croud!)
At this decision laugh’d aloud:
“Sneer if you like,” exclaim’d the Duke,
Then to himself his portion took;
And spite of all the witless rakes,
The Peer and Porter part the stakes.

MORALS.

I. This maxim, then, ye spendthrifts know,
’Tis money makes the mare to go.

II. By no wise man be this forgot;
A penny sav’d’s a penny got.

III. This rule keep ever in your head;
A half-loaf’s better than no bread.

IV. Though some may rail, and others laugh,
In your own hand still keep the staff.

V. Forget not, Sirs, since Fortune’s fickle,
Many a little makes a mickle.

VI. By gay men’s counsels be not thwarted.
Fools and their money soon are parted.

VII. Save, save, ye prudent—who can know
How soon the high may be quite low?

VIII. Of Christian virtues hear the sum,
True charity begins at home.

IX. Neglect not farthings, careless elves;
Shillings and pounds will guard themselves.

X. Get cash with honour if you can,
But still to get it be your plan.