Harry Graham: The Postman and the Lift
»›Most of our tenants pay rents of from £350 a year upward,‹ says Mr. Goddard, of Messrs. Goddard and Smith, the well-known Piccadilly house agents, ›and would strongly resent having to ride up and down in lifts with postmen.‹« – Daily Mail.
I used to live in Jermyn Street,
Upon the seventh floor.
I occupied a charming suite,
Bed, bath, and boudoir, all complete;
That flat is mine no more!
For in my lute appeared a rift:
They let the postman use the lift!
Was it for this I had to pay
Three hundred pounds a year?
I never shall forget the day
A relative arrived to stay
(First cousin to a peer);
My word! How Aunt Eliza sniff'd!
She met a postman in the lift!
»What!« she demanded, »must I ride
With common men like him?«
She drew her scornful skirts aside,
Her smelling-bottle she applied,
She shook in ev'ry limb.
»Be good enough,« she said, »to sift
The lower orders from the lift!«
»Good Goddard! Fellow,« I exclaimed,
»Is there no public stair?
Are there no regulations framed
To make a working-man ashamed
To breathe his betters' air?
To anarchy we surely drift
When common postmen use the lift!«
In vain I claim my legal rights,
My landlord won't give way.
He says his pity he excites
To see men scaling seven flights
So many times a day.
To other chambers I must shift,
Where postmen never use the lift!
Sonntag, 3. September 2017
Harry Graham (45)
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