‘ ROYAL ASCOT’

Ho! find me my faithful field-glasses

( The kind with collapsible joints );

Ho! bring me my bundle of passes,

My pencils ( the ones that have points );

Ho! give me my‘ topper,’

The head-dress that's proper

For meetings where Royalties muster;

Put scent on my‘ hanky’

( That's quite enough, thankye! )

And polish my boots with a duster;

That so I may venture, with grace and composure,

To mix with my peers in the Royal Enclosure!

At Ascot, where beautiful dresses

Enrapture the masculine gaze,

How oft I've indulged in excesses

Of hock-cup and cold mayonnaise!

How oft in the Paddock

( Though squashed like a haddock )

Each thoroughbred's heels I've eluded!

What fortunes I've flung to

The Ring, which they've clung to,

Those touts who my pockets denuded!

What niggardly odds did those bookmakers lay me!

( How often have ladies forgotten to pay me! )

At Ascot, that popular function,

Society leans on the rails,

And sport is enjoyed in conjunction

With lobsters and underdone quails!

While Rank and while Fashion

Regard with compassion

The antics of clown or of nigger,

But one imperfection

Appears, on inspection,

This party to mar or disfigure:

‘ Twould be the most perfect of meetings and courses,

If only —— if only there were n't any horses!