I

Half a yard — half a yard —

Half a yard onward,

Through the first crush-room

Pressed the Four Hundred.

Forward — the Fair Brigade!

On to the Throne, they said:

On to the Presence Room

Crushed the Four Hundred.

II

Forward, the Fair Brigade!

Was there a girl dismayed?

E'en though the chaperons knew

Some one had blundered.

Theirs not to make complaint,

Theirs not to sink or faint,

Theirs — but words cannot paint

Half the discomfiture

Of the Four Hundred.

III

Crowds on the right of them,

Crowds on the left of them,

Crowds all in front of them,

Stumbled and blundered:

On through the courtier-lined

Rooms — most tremendous grind —

Into the Presence-Room,

Leaving their friends behind,

Passed the Four Hundred.

IV

Flashd all their faces fair,

Flashed all their jewels rare,

Scratched all their shoulders bare,

Thrusting each other - while

Outsiders wondered:

Into the Presence-Room,

Taking their turn, they come, -

Some looking very glum

O'er trains sore-sundered: -

Kiss hand, and outwards back,

Fagged, the Four Hundred!

V

Crowds to the right of them,

Crowds to the lft of them,

Crowds all in front of them,

Stumbled and blundered -

Back through more coutier-lined

Rooms - O, tremendous grind! -

Debutantes thirsty pined

For ice or cup o' tea;

No sofas horsehair-lined,

Not a chair or settee,

Poor dear Four Hundred!

VI

Mothers to rage gave vent,

Husbands for broughams sent,

While at mismanagement

Both sorely wondered.

Not till the sun had set,

Not till the lamps were lit,

Home from the Drawing Room

Got the Four Hundred.

VII

Some, I heard, in despair

Of getting stool or chair,

Took to the floor, and there

Sat down and wondered.

Now my Lord Chamberlain,

Take my advice. Again

When there's a Drawing-room,

Shut doors, and don't let in

More than Two Hundred.