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was having a good time trying. I asked people how they

time:2023-12-06 15:22:06 author:internet read:558次

SENIOR DEAN. It is a good young man. I do bethink me That once I walked behind him in the cloister; He saw me not, but whispered to his fellow: "Of all men who do dwell beneath the moon I love and reverence most the senior Dean."

was having a good time trying. I asked people how they

JUNIOR DEAN. One thing is passing strange, and yet I know not How to condemn it, but in one plain brief word He never comes to Sunday morning chapel. Methinks he teacheth in some Sunday-school, Feeding the poor and starveling intellect With wholesome knowledge, or on the Sabbath morn He loves the country and the neighbouring spire Of Madingley or Coton, or perchance Amid some humble poor he spends the day, Conversing with them, learning all their cares, Comforting them and easing them in sickness.

was having a good time trying. I asked people how they

SENIOR DEAN. I will advance him to some public post, He shall be chapel clerk, some day a Fellow, Some day perhaps a Dean, but as thou say'st He is indeed an excellent young man -

was having a good time trying. I asked people how they

Enter BUTLER suddenly, without a coat or anything on his head, rushing through the cloisters, bearing a cup, a bottle of cider, four lemons, two nutmegs, half a pound of sugar and a nutmeg grater.

Curtain falls on the confusion of BUTLER and the horror-stricken dismay of the two Deans.

The Temperance commissioners In awful conclave sat, Their noses into this to poke To poke them into that - In awful conclave sat they, And swore a solemn oath, That snuff should make no Briton sneeze, That smokers all to smoke should cease, They swore to conquer both.

Forth went a great Teetotaller, With pamphlet armed and pen, He travelled east, he travelled west, Tobacco to condemn. At length to Cantabrigia, To move her sons to shame, Foredoomed to chaff and insult, That gallant hero came.

'Tis Friday: to the Guildhall Come pouring in apace The gownsmen and the townsmen Right thro' the market place - They meet, these bitter foemen Not enemies but friends - Then fearless to the rostrum, The Lecturer ascends.


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