Pagett, M.P.

                                   The toad beneath the harrow knows
                                   Exactly where each tooth-point goes.
                                   The butterfly upon the road
                                   Preaches contentment to that toad.   

1 
Pagett, M.P., was a liar, and a fluent liar therewith–
He spoke of the heat of India as the "Asian Solar Myth";
Came on a four months' visit, to "study the East", in November,
And I got him to sign an agreement vowing to stay till September. 
2 
March came in with the koil. Pagett was cool and gay,
Called me a "bloated Brahmin," talked of my "princely pay."
March went out with the roses. "Where is your heat?" said he.
"Coming," said I to Pagett, "Skittles!" said Pagett, M.P. 
3 
April began with the punkah, coolies, and prickly-heat,–
Pagett was dear to mosquitoes, sandflies found him a treat.
He grew speckled and lumpy—hammered I grieve to say,
Aryan brothers who fanned him, in an illiberal way. 
4 
May set in with a dust-storm,–Pagett went down with the sun. 
All the delights of the season tickled him one by one.
Imprimis–ten day's "liver"—due to his drinking beer;
Later, a dose of fever–slight, but he called it severe. 
5 
Dysent'ry touched him in June, after the Chota Bursat–
Lowered his portly person–made him yearn to depart.
He didn't call me a "Brahmin," or "bloated," or "overpaid,"
But seemed to think it a wonder that any one ever stayed. 
6 
July was a trifle unhealthy,–Pagett was ill with fear.
'Called it the "Cholera Morbus," hinted that life was dear.
He babbled of "Eastern Exile," and mentioned his home with tears;
But I hadn't seen my children for close upon seven years. 
7 
We reached a hundred and twenty once in the Court at noon,
(I've mentioned Pagett was portly) Pagett, went off in a swoon.
That was an end to the business; Pagett, the perjured, fled
With a practical, working knowledge of "Solar Myths" in his head. 
8 
And I laughed as I drove from the station, but the mirth died out on my lips
As I thought of the fools like Pagett who write of their "Eastern trips",
And the sneers of the travelled idiots who duly misgovern the land,
And I prayed to the Lord to deliver another one into my hand.

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