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XVIII.
What means this coward fuss?
"Ho! stretch this rope across the plat—
'Twill trip him up—or if not that,
Why, damme! we must lay him flat—
See, here's my blunderbuss.
XIX.
The Ox was only glad—
Let's break his presbyterian head!"
"Hush!" quoth the sage, "you've been misled;
No quarrels now—let's all make head—
You drove the poor Ox mad."
XX.
With the morning's wet newspaper,
In eager haste, without his hat,
As blind and blundering as a bat,
In came that fierce Aristocrat,
Our pursy Woollen-draper.
VOL. II.
G