attempt to hunt with the hare and run with hounds. Depart to lower regions!"
And Juggins slinked into obscurity with fallen chops.
Benevolent and forbearing readers, this unassuming tale is near its finis. Owing to his brilliant success at the Derby, Mr Bhosh was now rolling on cash, and, as the prediction of the Astrologer-Royal was fulfilled, there was no longer any objection to his union with the Princess Jones, with whom he accordingly contracted holy matrimony, and now lives in great splendour at Shepherd's Bush, since all his friends earnestly besought him that he was not to return to India. He therefore naturalised himself as a full-blooded British, and further adopted a coat-of-arms from the Family Herald, with a splendidly lofty crest, and the motto "Sans Peur et Sans Reproche." ("Not being funky myself, I do not reproach others with said failing"—free translation.)
But what of the wicked Duchess? I have to record that, being unable to pay the welsher
