The Present Lord Kenyon (The Peer Who Writes Letters, For Which The Waste-Paper Folks Much Are His Debtors) Hath One Little Oddity Well Worth Reciting, Which Puzzleth Observers Even More Than His Writing. Whenever Lord Kenyon Doth Chance To Behold A Cold Apple-Pie--Mind, The Pie Must Be Cold-- His Lordship Looks Solemn (Few People Know Why), And He Makes A Low Bow To The Said Apple-Pie. This Idolatrous Act In So "Vital" A Peer, Is By Most Serious Protestants Thought Rather Queer-- Pie-Worship, They Hold, Coming Under The Head (Vide Crustium, Chap, Iv.) Of The Worship Of Bread. Some Think 'Tis A Tribute, As Author He Owes For The Service That Pie-Crust Hath Done To His Prose;-- The Only Good Things In His Pages, They Swear, Being Those That The Pastry-Cook Sometimes Put There. Others Say, 'Tis A Homage, Thro' Piecrust Conveyed, To Our Glorious Deliverer'S Much-Honored Shade; As That Protestant Hero (Or Saint, If You Please) Was As Fond Of Cold Pie As He Was Of Green Pease,[1] And 'Tis Solely In Loyal Remembrance Of That, My Lord Kenyon To Apple-Pie Takes Off His Hat. While Others Account For This Kind Salutation;"-- By What Tony Lumpkin Calls "Concatenation;" A Certain Good-Will That, From Sympathy'S Ties, 'Twixt Old Apple-Women And Orange-Men Lies. But 'Tis Needless To Add, These Are All Vague Surmises, For Thus, We're Assured, The Whole Matter Arises: Lord Kenyon'S Respected Old Father (Like Many Respected Old Fathers) Was Fond Of A Penny; And Loved So To Save,[2] That--There'S Not The Least Question-- His Death Was Brought On By A Bad Indigestion, From Cold Apple-Pie-Crust His Lordship Would Stuff In At Breakfast To Save The Expense Of Hot Muffin. Hence It Is, And Hence Only, That Cold Apple-Pies Are Beheld By His Heir With Such Reverent Eyes-- Just As Honest King Stephen His Beaver Might Doff To The Fishes That Carried His Kind Uncle Off-- And While Filial Piety Urges So Many On, 'Tis Pure Apple-Pie-Ety Moves My Lord Kenyon.