The Folly Of Brown By A General Agent

I knew a boor a clownish card,     (His only friends were pigs and cows and     The poultry of a small farmyard)     Who came into two hundred thousand.     Good fortune worked no change in Brown,     Though she's a mighty social chymist:     He was a clown and by a clown     I do not mean a pantomimist.     It left him quiet, calm, and cool,     Though hardly knowing what a crown was     You can't imagine what a fool     Poor rich, uneducated Brown was!     He scouted all who wished to come     And give him monetary schooling;     And I propose to give you some     Idea of his insensate fooling.     I formed a company or two     (Of course I don't know what the rest meant,     I formed them solely with a view     To help him to a sound investment).     Their objects were their only cares     To justify their Boards in showing     A handsome dividend on shares,     And keep their good promoter going.     But no the lout prefers his brass,     Though shares at par I freely proffer:     Yes will it be believed? the ass     Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer!     He added, with a bumpkin's grin,     (A weakly intellect denoting)     He'd rather not invest it in     A company of my promoting!     "You have two hundred 'thou' or more,"     Said I. "You'll waste it, lose it, lend it.     Come, take my furnished second floor,     I'll gladly show you how to spend it."     But will it be believed that he,     With grin upon his face of poppy,     Declined my aid, while thanking me     For what he called my "philanthroppy?"     Some blind, suspicious fools rejoice     In doubting friends who wouldn't harm them;     They will not hear the charmer's voice,     However wisely he may charm them.     I showed him that his coat, all dust,     Top boots and cords provoked compassion,     And proved that men of station must     Conform to the decrees of fashion.     I showed him where to buy his hat,     To coat him, trouser him, and boot him;     But no he wouldn't hear of that     "He didn't think the style would suit him!"     I offered him a country seat,     And made no end of an oration;     I made it certainly complete,     And introduced the deputation.     But no the clown my prospects blights     (The worth of birth it surely teaches!)     "Why should I want to spend my nights     In Parliament, a-making speeches?     "I haven't never been to school     I ain't had not no eddication     And I should surely be a fool     To publish that to all the nation!"     I offered him a trotting horse     No hack had ever trotted faster     I also offered him, of course,     A rare and curious "old Master."     I offered to procure him weeds     Wines fit for one in his position     But, though an ass in all his deeds,     He'd learnt the meaning of "commission."     He called me "thief" the other day,     And daily from his door he thrusts me;     Much more of this, and soon I may     Begin to think that Brown mistrusts me.     So deaf to all sound Reason's rule     This poor uneducated clown is,     You cannot fancy what a fool     Poor rich uneducated Brown is.