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44
THE THREE BEGGARS
With blood-shot eyes upon him stared.
'Time's up,' he cried, and all the three
Fell down upon the dust and snored.
'Maybe I shall be lucky yet,
Now they are silent,' said the crane.
'Though to my feathers in the wet
I've stood as I were made of stone
And seen the rubbish run about.
It's certain there are trout somewhere
And maybe I shall take a trout
If but I do not seem to care.'
