Hilaria: The Festive Board by Charles Morris - HTML preview

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BANKING.

 

Come, I’m prompt for a song on demand,

Of the BANKERS and BANKS of our nation;

I’ll relate how they fall, how they stand,

Their origin from the creation;

This Banking’s no new-fashion’d trade,

For Eve, that libidinous madam,

The moment she ceas’d to be maid,

Kept a running account with old Adam.

 

So the first of all Bankers and Banks,

In the garden of Eden began,

When Belzebub play’d his lewd pranks,

And effected the downfall of man;

Disguis’d as a serpent he flew,

To Eve’s Bank, a large payment consign’d,

But, answering the draft when ’twas due,

She damn’d Adam, herself, and mankind.

 

Pudenda—receiver, cashier,

Always acts upon credit and honor,

And keeps her accounts just and clear,

Of the long and short dates drawn upon her;

Now as Bills of Exchequer must go,

To make paper currency stand,

When her customer’s credits run low,

She takes their affairs in her hand.

 

PETER PEGO’s the entering clerk,

In this house performs principal duty,

He rises as soon as the lark,

And esteem’d is for vigour and beauty;

His out-door assistant is cod,

Who wakes him whenever he’s drowsy,

He wears his own hair, and, what’s odd,

Was never yet known to be lousy.

 

These Banks, alike, pay and receive

In metal, not bankrupt sign paper,

And payment ne’er stop’d, (I believe,)

Tho’ oft their finances run taper;

They think flimsy paper a hum,

So Pego and Company scout it,

But their neighbour, next door, Master Bum,

Can’t carry on business without it.

 

’Tis a wonder this Bank isn’t crush’d,

From the numberless drafts it doth take in,

Yet oft as it hath been hard push’d,

It ne’er was in danger of breaking;

Art and nature supply such a store,

Of resources for raising the wind,

That, whenever ’tis close press’d before,

’Tis sure of relief from behind.

 

Mother Bank has declar’d, since her fall,

That the Ministry forc’d her to stop,

Still she’s bullion enough for ’em all

If they’ll let her re-open her shop;

No, they keep fast the key, we perceive,

Of the padlock they’ve clap’d on her door,

So the lady can’t piss without leave,

Nor squat, nor get f—d as before.

 

A bill drawn, presented, accepted,

And not paid when due, “as above,”

Is noted, protested, rejected,

A dry bob in commerce and love;

A short thing’s—no assets in hand,

A long one’s—an over-drawn note,

A discount’s—a f—g at a stand,

An indorser’s—a b—g—r a-float.