POETRY.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 87, 10 September 1874, Page 3

POETRY.

WHERE’S MY MONEY. [From the Dublin University Magazine ."j Aye 1 where’s my money ? that’s' a puzzling query. It vanishes ; yet neither in my purse Nor pockets are there any holes. ’Tis very Incomprehensible. I don’t disburse For superfluities. I wear plain clothes ; I seldom buy jam tarts, preserves, or honey, And no one overlooks what debts he owes More steadily than I. Where’s my money ? I never tipple. Folks don’t see me staggering, Sans cane and castor, in the public street ; I sport no ornaments—not e’en a bague (ring). I have a notion that my own two feet Are much superior to a horse’s four, So never call a jarvcy. Yet, ’tis very funny. The longer I investigate, the more Astoundingly I ask —where’s my money ? My money, mind you; other people’s dollars Cohere together nobly. Only mine Cut one another. There’s that pink of scholars, Yon Duppeldronke, he spends as much on wine As lon everything. Yet, he seems rich; He laughs and waxes plumper than a tunny, While I grow slim as a divining switch, And search for gold as vainly. Where’s my money? I can’t complain that creditors don’t pay me, I get for every sheet one pound sixteen; And well I may! my articles are flamy— Enough to blow up any magazine. What’s queerest in the affair, though, is that at The same time I miss nothing but the one. He That watches me will find I don’t lose hat, Or coat, or globes, or stick —’tis always money. Were I a rake I’d say so. Where one rovers Peyc-nd the rules, of course his cash must ' poTis true I regularly sup on oysters, Cheese, brandy, and all that. But even so, What signifiies a guinea of a night ? “ The barmaids” you may fancy. No, the sunny Loadstni (hat draws mv coin is not the light From their eyes anyhow. Where, then’s, my money ? However, apropos of eyes and maidens, I own I do make presents to the sex— Books, brooches, watches, music too (not Haydn’s), Combs, shawls, veils, bonnets—things that might perplex A man to count. But still I gain by what I lose in this way. ’Tis experience won, eh ? IJthink so. My acquaintances think now I No matter ! I grow tedious—where’s my money ?