So I quickly think of a beautiful plot, The interest ne'er for an instant flags; The sorrowful ending is almost heart-rending, As the heroine comes on in tatters and rags. It is better than aught I have thought of before, And will certainly run for a twelvemonth or more. Yet, alas! for my prospect of glory and gain, She has strangled my play at its moment of birth, For now she has written to say she is smitten With the newest designs and creations of WORTH, And to quote her own words--"As a matter of fact, I've a couple of costumes for every act." Then there follows a list of the things she has bought, Though I'm puzzled indeed as to what it may mean. She is painfully pat in her jargon of satin, Alpaca, nun's veiling, tulle, silk, grenadine, And she asks me to say if I honestly think She should die in pearl-grey, golden-brown, or shrimp-pink? So here I am left in this pitiful plight. With nothing but dresses, what _am_ I to do? For I haven't a notion what kind of emotion Is suited to coral or proper for blue; And if, when she faints, but they think she is dead, Old-gold or sea-green would be better than red. Will crushed strawberry do for an afternoon call? For the evening would salmon or olive be right? May a charming young fellow embrace her in yellow? Must she sorrow in black? Must I wed her in white? Till, dazed and bewildered, my eyesight grows dim, And my head, throbbing wildly, commences to swim. 'Twere folly and madness to try any more, I know what I'll do--in a letter to-day I will just tell her plainly how utterly vainly I've striven and struggled to finish her play; And then--happy thought!--I will mildly suggest That she'll find for her purpose BUCHANAN the best. I shall now write a play without dresses at all, A plan, which I'm sure will be perfectly new. Yet opposed to convention, why merely the mention Of a thing so immodest will startle a few; And, although it's a pity, I shrewdly suspect The Lord Chamberlain might deem it right to object. Better still! from the French I will boldly convey What will be (in two senses) the talk of the town. You insist on a moral? Well, pray do not quarrel With the one that I now for your guidance lay down, That of excellent maxims this isn't the worst-- _Let the play, not the dresses, be settled the first!_ * * * * *