In the following issue was a poem “To the Infant Princess”, reproduced below;In those dim days that song and story mellow, Ere ever news essayed its fierce white arts, Each Monarch was a merry wise old fellow, And every Queen acclaimed a Queen of Hearts; Princes were brave and true, and all Princesses Found wit and beauty in their horoscopes, But what I’ve always wondered, I confess, is What sort of conduct marked the Royal hopes? Did Princess Goldilocks refuse her bottle, Steal out of bed or give her nurse a shock By saying “Shan’t!”? Did anyone say, “What’ll Your dear Mama do when she sees your frock?” Did she get spanked for walking into puddles, Did she climb trees and bring the dog indoors, Or weep because her sums got all in muddles, And dub French verbs and history horrid bores? We do not know my dear; but if you do ‘em (And, entre nous, we rather hope you will, For childish pranks, although we’re made to rue ‘em, Denote a zest of life that’s none so ill), We’ll know – or guess – since it becomes each dutiful Subject of yours full interest to evince; So please to grow up merry, wise and beautiful, And all the world will be your Fairy Prince. ALGOL
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