  On the Island of Ascension There are only ladies ten, The remaining population Being officers or men. "Dear me!" I hear you saying, "How united they must be!" But in this you'd be mistaken, As you'll very quickly see. For each lady on the Island Thinks she ought to take the lead In social matters, and on this They're not at all agreed. And Mrs. Smith's told Mrs. Brown She thinks her most absurd, While others cut each other dead And don't exchange a word. This state of thing's been going on They tell me year by year, And the husbands have grown tired of it As we should do I fear; For connubial felicity Is doomed, if all our lives Are spent in listening to the faults Of other people's wives. For cinnamon and spice, And her Captain and the officers Were asked for their advice. They gave it promptly. It was this— "'Twere better you agreed, In social matters, just to let The eldest lady lead." They tried it. But—good gracious! They are worse off than before, For every lady in the place Is firm upon that score. Impossible it is that age Shall be the final test, For every one insists that she Is younger than the rest!
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