THE INSTALLATION OF BROTHER WALES.

Thames Star, Volume VII, Issue 2097, 23 September 1875, Page 3

THE INSTALLATION OF BROTHER WALES.

London, Wednesday nie;ht. Banquet just over. Shplendid. Brother Wales jush gone home. Mrs Wales shtopping up for him elsh he wouldn't bin in such hurry. Gloriush day. Never tasted sush rich turtle 'nail my life. Champagne shplendid. . Never shaw anything sho impressive as the installation and sherrymony, and never tasted such nish port, only couldn't hardly get a drop. .Gloriush banquet, but shearsely got a moutbfnl feat, and riot drop t'drink. Wa'er wa'er every-where, not drop t'drink. Have been nearly famished, and now I'm pasht grand, I mean pasht eating. Only had two plates oys'ers, three very little bitshs o' turtle, two very shmali plates shamon and whitebaits, shmelt a bit of shweetbread, and jush looked at an oys'er patty, had jush an ounce a lamb, a bit of beef, and a duckling; and no shweets 'cept cabinet puddin' ap-cot tart, ounce o' jelly, and shome ice .puddn wish never counts. Still it was shplendid. Brother Wales never looked better or bigger, in my est'mashun. " Shend him vie'orious, happy and gloriush, grand master over ush, 'Od bless Prince Wales." What we want is more masonic banquets. Mashonry's very dry work ash a rule. There's a deal too mush dreshing up at lodge, and not 'nuff to eat and drink. Want more installations.. More Prince o' Wales's. More banquets like that tonight. Quite thought Brother Albert Edward would have come round, and given ush all the brotherly grip. Ought to have shtept round and shook hands with ish- new relations. Feel I'm one of the royal family now. Shall have.royal arms put on my card. Don't feel eejgshactly the thing, somehow. Getting nothing to eat, I suppose. Bad thing to go to a banquet and have nothing to eat. Elsh it was that shammon. Bett'r go bed, I think. B'leeve I've been sipping at the ink pot, and thinking it wash claret. Think I'd better take shomo blott-paper and go shtraight to bed. Hope I haven't told anybody the Masonic secret. Fanshy I have. 'Od blesh. Prinsh Wales all the same. Never go to banquet without something teat. Bad thing. Can't write any mo.-—Birmingham Town Crier's '• Own Mason."