'I'm getting stout, as you may see:

    It is but seldom I am well:

    I cannot feel my ancient glee

    In listening to the dinner-bell:

    But you, you gambol like a boy,

    Your figure is so spare and light:

    The dinner-bell's a note of joy

    To such a healthy appetite!'

    Said Peter 'I am well aware

    Mine is a state of happiness:

    And yet how gladly could I spare

    Some of the comforts I possess!

    What you call healthy appetite

    I feel as Hunger's savage tooth:

    And, when no dinner is in sight,

    The dinner-bell's a sound of ruth!

    'No scare-crow would accept this coat:

    Such boots as these you seldom see.

    Ah, Paul, a single five-pound-note

    Would make another man of me!'

    Said Paul 'It fills me with surprise

    To hear you talk in such a tone:

    I fear you scarcely realise

    The blessings that are all your own!

    'You're safe from being overfed:

    You're sweetly picturesque in rags:

    You never know the aching head

    That comes along with money-bags:

    And you have time to cultivate

    That best of qualities, Content—

    For which you'll find your present state

    Remarkably convenient!'

    Said Peter 'Though I cannot sound

    The depths of such a man as you,

    Yet in your character I've found

    An inconsistency or two.

    You seem to have long years to spare

    When there's a promise to fulfil:

    And yet how punctual you were

    In calling with that little bill!'

    'One can't be too deliberate,'

    Said Paul, 'in parting with one's pelf.

    With bills, as you correctly state,

    I'm punctuality itself:

    A man may surely claim his dues:

    But, when there's money to be lent,

    A man must be allowed to choose

    Such times as are convenient!'

    It chanced one day, as Peter sat

    Gnawing a crust—his usual meal—

    Paul bustled in to have a chat,

    And grasped his hand with friendly zeal.

    'I knew,' said he, 'your frugal ways:

    So, that I might not wound your pride

    By bringing strangers in to gaze,

    I've left my legal friend outside!

    'You well remember, I am sure,

    When first your wealth began to go,

    And people sneered at one so poor,

    I never used my Peter so!

    And when you'd lost your little all,

    And found yourself a thing despised,

    I need not ask you to recall

    How tenderly I sympathised!

    'Then the advice I've poured on you,

    So full of wisdom and of wit:

    All given gratis, though 'tis true

    I might have fairly charged for it!

    But I refrain from mentioning

    Full many a deed I might relate

    For boasting is a kind of thing

    That I particularly hate.