P.S.
Hurrah, Dick, hurrah, Dick, ten thousand hurrahs!
I'm a happy, rich dog to the end of my days.
There--read the good news--and while glad, for _my_ sake,
That Wealth should thus follow in Love's shining wake,
Admire also the _moral_--that he, the sly elf,
Who has fudged all the world, should be now fudged _himself_!
EXTRACT FROM LETTER ENCLOSED.
With pain the mournful news I write,
Miss Fudge's uncle died last night;
And much to mine and friends' surprise,
By will doth all his wealth devise--
Lands, dwellings--rectories likewise--
To his "beloved grand-niece," Miss Fanny,
Leaving Miss Fudge herself, who many
Long years hath waited--not a penny!
Have notified the same to latter,
And wait instructions in the matter.
For self and partners, etc.
[1] The rectory which the Rev. gentleman holds is situated in the county
of _Armagh_!--a most remarkable coincidence--and well worthy of the
attention of certain expounders of the Apocalypse.
[Illustration: Thomas Moore]
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE COMPLETE POEMS OF SIR THOMAS MOORE ***
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