Augustus Fitz-Herbert, as all are aware, Having crossed the Atlantic, and got a moustache on, Likewise being son of a known millionaire, Stands of course on the very top round of the fashion. Being taught to consider himself, from his birth, As one of the privileged ones of the earth, He cherishes deep and befitting disdain For those who don't live in the Fifth Avenue, As entirely unworthy the notice or thought Of the heir of two millions and nothing to do. He calls them canaille, which I'm credibly told Is the only French word which he caught when away; And though, in my case, if I might be so bold, I should say it scarce paid one for half a year's stay, The heir of two millions and nothing to do, Who lives in a palace in Fifth Avenue, As a matter of course, is no fitting comparison For the heir of an inkstand and something to do, Who lodges up stairs, in the house of Miss Harrison.
In this model republic, this land of the free— So our orators call it, and why should not we?— 'Tis refreshing to know that without pedigree A man may still climb to the top of the tree; That questions of family, rank, and high birth, All bow to the query, How much is he worth? That John Smith, plebeian, who forty years since Walked Broadway barefooted, now rides as a prince; Having managed, though not overburdened with wit, But rather by chance and a fortunate hit, To take a high place on Society's rounds; His claims being based on pence, shillings, and pounds. I admit there's a certain republican merit In making the fortune which others inherit; But why should John Smith so completely ignore The bridge which has brought him triumphantly o'er, And turn with disgust from the opposite shore? And why, when Miranda, whose heart is not proof Against Cupid's sharp arrows, some day leaves his roof, And, sundering her family-ties at a jerk, Returns in the evening—the wife of his clerk! Thus at Love's trumpet-call bidding Duty defiance, Should he strive to break up the clandestine alliance? For, though men have made money, and will do again, There was never a case known where money made men; And if Jones be a man in what constitutes manhood, He's a far better match than young Frederic Stanwood, Though the one be a clerk, and the other the heir Of the house next M'Flimsey's, on Madison-square. If the one is deficient in wealth, we may find The other quite bankrupt in morals and mind.
Excuse this digression, which yet is germain To the subject in hand, as will be very plain When I say that Fitz-Herbert's respected progenitor Did business years since, as I'm told, in a den eight or Ten feet each way, where he daily had calls From all sorts of people with all sorts of things, From coats and umbrellas to bracelets and rings, To be left, until claimed, at the Three Golden Balls.