Hugh Morgan, cousin of that Hugh Whose cousin was, the Lord knows who, Was likewise, as the story runs, Tenth cousin of one David Jones. David, well stored with classic knowledge, Was sent betimes to Jesus College; Paternal bounty left him clear For life one hundred pounds a year; And Jones was deem'd another Croesus Among the Commoners of Jesus. It boots not here to quote tradition, In proof of David's erudition;-- He could unfold the mystery high, Of Paulo-posts, and verbs in u; Scan Virgil, and, in mathematics, Prove that straight lines were not quadratics. All Oxford hail'd the youth's _ingressus_, And wond'ring Welshmen cried "Cot pless us!" It happen'd that his cousin Hugh Through Oxford pass'd, to Cambria due, And from his erudite relation Receiv'd a written invitation. ~117~~ Hugh to the college gate repair'd, And ask'd for Jones;--the porter stared! "Jones! Sir," quoth he, "discriminate: Of Mr. Joneses there be eight." "Ay, but 'tis David Jones," quoth Hugh; Quoth porter, "We've six Davids too." "Cot's flesh!" cries Morgan, "cease your mockings, My David Jones wears worsted stockings!" Quoth porter, "Which it is, Heaven knows, For all the eight wear worsted hose." "My Cot!" says Hugh, "I'm ask'd to dine With cousin Jones, and quaff his wine." "That one word 'wine' is worth a dozen," Quoth porter, "now I know your cousin; The wine has stood you, sir, in more stead Than David, or the hose of worsted; You'll find your friend at number nine-- We've but one Jones that quaffs his wine."