Two worlds indeed. The mighty West
Poured out her untold money
To gaze upon my palimpsest;
I think that Codex A was best,
But parts of this have been suppressed;
Publishers are so funny.
And now my fame through London rings
In well-bred speech and _argot_;
At mild suburban tea-makings
The postman knocks, and poor dear things
Tear wildly at the parcel-strings
When MUDIE gives them MARGOT.
Pressmen have tried to make a lot
Out of a certain instance
Of mild misstatement as to what
Happened in 1914. Rot!
All I can say is that my plot
Has much more _verve_ than WINSTON'S.
Well, never mind. The work is done;
People who do not need it--
The wit, the fire, the force, the fun,
The pathos--let them simply shun
This frightful book, shout "Shame!" and run;
Nobody's _forced_ to read it.
EVOE.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Dentist (after preliminary inspection)._
"EXTRAORDINARY THING--THERE'S ONE OF YOUR TEETH ONLY HALF STOPPED."
_Patient._ "AH, THAT WERE T'OOTHER DENTIST.
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