From this a
wide double staircase led up to a marble gallery. Hall, gallery, and
staircase were filled with a brilliant crowd; the men arrayed in every
variety of uniform; the ladies, to a woman, in V-shaped dresses, the
openness of which appeared to vary in a direct ratio to the age of
their wearers.
[Illustration]
"We will repose awhile," _Mr. Punch_ remarked to the Father, "and
scan the multitude. This, my dear Tempus, is the pick of Society.
That stout lady, with a face like a haughty turtle, is the Duchess of
DOUBLECHIN; that graceful little woman next to her is Lady ANGELINA
BATTLEAXE--she is a dress-maker."
"A what?" inquired Father TIME.
"A dress-maker," answered the Master, calmly.
"In her shop, ancient notions forsaking,
The proud ANGELINA unbends;
And her figure's a tall one for making
A fit for the figures of friends.
Our cynical latter-day Catos
Are dumb when invited to dine
With a Marquis who deals in potatoes,
Or an Earl who takes orders for wine.
And, though old-fashioned folk think it funny,
It's as common as death, or as debts,
To find gentlemen making their money
Out of shops for the making of bets.
The stout puffy old fellow there is the wealthiest man in Jupiter.
He floats mines, asteroid mines mostly, and makes it pay him. He
can command the very best society.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36