A CAUTIONARY TALE

Lord Hailsham, from his earliest years Was frightened by the House of Peers.

The merest whisper of a Duke Would make the infant Quin tin puke; A Marquess visiting his mum Would strike the little fellow dumb; An Earl who was his father's friend Bade fair to drive him round the bend; At Viscounts on the telephone The lad could scarce repress a groan; And should a Baron stay to tea He'd blubber unconsolably.

In short, a visitor who came And signed the book sans Christian name,' Or had the right to show his face And sojourn in Another Place, Aroused the boy's hostility, As Dulles does with you and me.

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His father, Mr. Douglas Hogg, Whose gifts I need not catalogue, Had done some service to the state (The details I will not relate), Which Mr. Baldwin—'Honest Stan'— Who was a most repulsive man, Declared was worthy of reward And would he like to be a Lord? Although reluctant to refuse He ascertained young Quintin's views; This gesture, it is plain to see Was supererogatory, For well he knew his son and heir Would think the enterprise unfair (Since such a move would write 'Amen' To all his hopes of Number Ten). But he was deaf to every plea And took the dreaded Viscountcy.

Now let us quickly turn Life's page And come to Quintin's middle age. In 1950, sad to tell, He bade the Lower House farewell And found his head, to his regret Encircled by a coronet.

So following his legal star He sought refreshment at the Bar, And ere a single month had gone Enhanced his reputation.

Alas, this idyll could not last For scarcely had a year gone past' When grave emergencies arose And Britain faced a sea of foes. And so the word from Downing Street Was 'Quintin, come and run the Fleet.' Which willingly he came and ran This extraordinary man.

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Now after.all the Wogs had fled He cooled his heels as Min. of Ed. Where, finding that he had the time By ALOYSIUS C. PEPPER He occupied himself in rhyme, And asked, could the Spectator use The promptings of his midnight Muse? This worthy organ took the chance Convinced it would their sales advance, Which prompted Mr. Graham Greene, Who likes to be both heard and seen, To place the poems in the niche Reserved for Wilhelmina Stitch. His Lordship, not a whit put out Continued learned taste to flout, And, proving all his critics wrong He far surpassed Miss Patience Strong.

Lord Reading, we should mention here Who was, of course, a Jewish Peer. Had never had a Christian name, But was excluded just the same.

A year, that is, or three, or six; Time goes so fast in politics.

The date referred to in this line Is really 1929. Well, by-elections came and went With Tory credit almost spent And soon the sky was grim and black Which worried even Harold Mac; Whereat once more was heard the cry `Come, Quintin, quickly, or we die!' So, hearing this despairing sound Lord Hailsham promptly rallied round And graciously gave his consent To be the new Lord President Which rapidly relieved the gloom Of Alec, 14th Earl of Home (Whose occiput, as is well known Is made throughout of solid bone). My hero, wanting more to do Became the Party's Chairman, too, Revealing at the Brighton spree A taste for campanology.

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But bear with me until I end Our story of the People's Friend. He rang his bell with might and main (Although requested to refrain), Till far and wide the whisper ran `Look out, here comes the Muffin Man.' And everywhere the Bellman led The Tory Party followed.

They followed him from town to town And watched their candidates go down, For lo! The louder rang the bell The more the voting figures fell. His chief (whose eyes had all the glow Of long-dead oysters, set in dough), Suspecting that perhaps the bell Might sound in time the party's knell Incautiously despatched direct A Minute to this same effect.

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So now upon the midnight clear The watchman on his rounds may hear A distant ringing, and a cry Of 'Buy my muffins, come and buy,' And in the sea off Brighton beach The bathers murmur, each to each 'Is that a buoy there, off the shore?

I've never seen its like before.'

And when the party forces meet Another Chairman takes his seat, And Alec leads the Lords again And calls for Hailsham's help in vain, And Wedgwood Benn weeps bitter tears That Premiers may not be Peers, And as election time draws on The Tories' hopes are almost gone.

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All this the infant Hogg foresaw That day in 19243,

But, helpless to escape his fate, Could only stand, and serve, and wait. The moral that this tale affords Is, he is wise who fears the Lords.