"When Tom has half his income Laid by at the year's end, Poor Ned has ne'er a stiver That rightly he may spend; But spunges on a tradesman, Or borrows from a friend. "While Tom his legal studies Most soberly pursues, Poor Ned must pass his mornings A-dawdling with the muse; While Tom frequents his banker, Young Ned frequents the Jews. "Ned drives about in buggies, Tom sometimes takes a 'bus; Ah! cruel Fate, why made you My children differ thus? Why make of Tom a _dullard_, And Ned a _genius_?" "You'll cut him with a shilling," Exclaimed the man of writs;-- "I'll leave my wealth," said Brentford, "Sir Lawyer, as befits; And portion both their fortunes Unto their several wits." "Your Grace knows best," the lawyer said, "On your commands I wait." "Be silent, sir," says Brentford, "A plague upon your prate! Come, take your pens and paper, And write as I dictate." The will as Brentford spoke it Was writ, and signed, and closed; He bade the lawyer leave him, And turned him round and dozed; And next week in the churchyard The good old king reposed. Tom, dressed in crape and hat-band, Of mourners was the chief; In bitter self-upbraidings Poor Edward showed his grief; Tom hid his fat white countenance In his pocket-handkerchief. Ned's eyes were full of weeping, He faltered in his walk; Tom never shed a tear, But onwards he did stalk, As pompous, black, and solemn, As any catafalque. And when the bones of Brentford, That gentle king and just, With bell, and book, and candle, Were duly laid in dust, "Now, gentlemen," says Thomas, "Let business be discussed. "When late our sire beloved Was taken deadly ill, Sir Lawyer, you attended him (I mean to tax your bill); And as you signed and wrote it, I pr'ythee read the will." The lawyer wiped his spectacles, And drew the parchment out; And all the Brentford family Sate eager round about. Poor Ned was somewhat anxious, But Tom had ne'er a doubt. "My son, as I make ready To seek my last long home, Some cares I feel for Neddy, But none for thee, my Tom; Sobriety and order You ne'er departed from. "Ned hath a brilliant genius, And thou a plodding brain; On thee I think with pleasure, On him with doubt and pain." "You see, good Ned," says Thomas, "What he thought about us twain." "Tho' small was your allowance, You saved a little store, And those who save a little Shall get a plenty more;" As the lawyer read this compliment, Tom's eyes were running o'er.