The Lyons Cubs (Rhymes for the Times)

['Waiting is a good, and often a lucrative profession, which
must be freed from the hostile prejudice entertained by the
ordinary British family. On the Continent and in America there
is no such prejudice, and University men often find the
profession worth entering. ' -- Evening Paper.]

I said to George, my eldest son,
'Now that your college days are done,
'And high opinions you have won
'For wisdom and discretion,
'The time has come, as I suspect,
'When you should ponder and reflect
'Upon your future, and select
'A calling or profession. '
He answered brightly, 'Righto, pater!
'I'd like to be a British waiter!'

'Come, George,' I said, 'don't be absurd!
'I asked what _calling_ you preferred.
'The Bar (although, I've always heard,
'The work is something frightful),
'The Church, the Services, the Bench,
'Diplomacy -- nay, do not blench,
'You know how good you are at French --
'Is each of them delightful;
'I'll come for your decision later. '
Said George, 'I wish to be a waiter!

'Yes, at some cafe let me wait;
'For though I stroked my College eight,
'The year they won the Ladies' Plate,
'How mean a triumph _that_ is,
'Compared with his who daily bears
'Whole stacks of Ladies' Plates downstairs,
'Or "bumps" the backs of diners' chairs,
'At Evans's or Gatti's!
'A "first" in "Greats" I deem no greater
'Than every exploit of the waiter.

'When single-handed he controls
'Some half-a-dozen finger-bowls,
'Than any Fellow of All Souls
'More talent he evinces,
'And shows why those who feel the charm
'Of balancing without alarm
'Six soup-plates upon either arm,
'At Kettner's, Scott's, or Prince's,
'To Judge's wig or Bishop's gaiter
'Prefer the napkin of the waiter! '

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