to work, just about to pay, just about to repent, just about to wash their necks—but they were fond of saying 'Well! I never did'—and they never did. . . . Their names?. . . Let's see. There was 'Ugo—who never went himself, and Alfred—who was really 'alfblack. Their children were Percy Vere—who never did so; Og—who hadn't a single H to his name because he didn't want to be a Pig; Edward—so called because his beer always went that way. . . . "
"What did they eat—apart from eggs?" inquired the President.
"Well, they imbibed virtue and assimilated facts. They chewed the cud of bitter reflection and inwardly digested exhortations and were . . ."
"Fed up, I should think," interrupted Boodle. "You're off colour to-day, Buster. Sing us something."
And lifting up his voice. Buster sang:—
"Never beat your Mother, boys, tho' she is old and grey,
If you do not like her, show it in some other way.
No—never strike your Mother, boys, whatever she may do,
For, though she's but a woman—she has feelings just like you. . . ."
And was turned out of the Club forthwith.
