On the Island of Ascension
There are only ladies ten,
The remaining population
Being officers or men.
"Dear me!" I hear you saying,
"How united they must be!"
But in this you'd be mistaken,
As you'll very quickly see.
For each lady on the Island
Thinks she ought to take the lead
In social matters, and on this
They're not at all agreed.
And Mrs. Smith's told Mrs. Brown
She thinks her most absurd,
While others cut each other dead
And don't exchange a word.
This state of thing's been going on
They tell me year by year,
And the husbands have grown tired of it
As we should do I fear;
For connubial felicity
Is doomed, if all our lives
Are spent in listening to the faults
Of other people's wives.
They tried it. But—good gracious!
They are worse off than before,
For every lady in the place
Is firm upon that score.
Impossible it is that age
Shall be the final test,
For every one insists that she
Is younger than the rest!