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He sent for a Doctor, and cried, like a ninny,

"I have lost many pounds-make me well-there's a guinea."

The Doctor looked wise :-
:-" a slow fever," he said;

Prescribed sudorifics,—and going to bed.

"Sudorifics in bed," exclaimed WILL," are humbugs!

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'I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs!"

WILL kicked out the doctor :—but when ill indeed,
E'en dismissing the Doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host-he said-" Sir, do you know,
"I'm the fat SINGLE GENTLEMAN, six months ago?

"Look ye, Landlord, I think," argued WILL with a grin, “That with honest intentions you first took me in :

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But from the first night—and to say it I'm bold— "I've been so very hot, that I'm sure I caught cold!”

Quoth the landlord-" Till now, I ne'er had a dispute; "I've let lodgings ten years, I'm a baker to boot; "In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven : "And your bed is immediately-over my OVEN.

"The oven !*! ! -says Will;-says the host, "Why this passion?

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"In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir?"—" Zounds!" cried Will in a taking,

"Who would not be crusty with half a year's baking?"

Will paid for his rooms :-cried the host with a sneer, "Well, I see you've been going away half a year." "Friend, we ca'nt well agree;—yet no quarrel "—Will said :

"But I'd rather not perish, while you make your bread."

COLMAN.

THE LEGEND OF HORATIUS.

OUT spake the Consul roundly :

"The bridge must straight go down ; For, since Janiculum is lost,

Nought else can save the town."

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Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
To every man upon this earth

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Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his Gods?

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"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,

With all the speed ye may ;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.

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In

yon

strait path a thousand

May well be stopped by three.

Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?"

Then out spake Spurius Lartius;
A Ramnian proud was he:

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Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee."
And out spake strong Herminius;
Of Titian blood was he:
"I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee."

"Horatius," quoth the Consul,

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As thou say'st, so let it be."

And straight against that great array
Forth went the dauntless Three.
For Romans in Rome's quarrel

Spared neither land nor gold,

Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
In the brave days of old.

Then none was for a party;

Then all were for the state;

Then the great man helped the poor,

And the poor man loved the great :

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Then lands were fairly portioned;
Then spoils were fairly sold:
The Romans were like brothers

In the brave days of old.

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Now while the Three were tightening
Their harness on their backs,

The Consul was the foremost man
To take in hand an axe;

And Fathers mixed with Commons,
Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
And smote upon the planks above,
And loosed the props below.

Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,

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Came flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.

Four hundred trumpets sounded

A peal of warlike glee,

As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three.

The Three stood calm and silent,
And looked upon the foes,

And a great shout of laughter

From all the vanguard rose;

And forth three chiefs came spurring
Before that deep array,

To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew

To win the narrow way;

Aunus, from green Tifernum,

Lord of the Hill of Vines;

And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves

Sicken in Ilva's mines:

And Picus, long to Clusium

Vassal in peace and war,

Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
From that great crag where, girt with towers,
The fortress of Nequinum lowers

O'er the pale waves of Nar.

Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus

Into the stream beneath;

Herminius struck at Seius,

And clove him to the teeth:

At Picus brave Horatius

Darted one fiery thrust :

And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms

Clashed in the bloody dust.

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