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Then join❜d in a clamour, resembling loud thunder,
That something wou'd happen, at which we shou'd wonder.
The old women were not altogether delirious,

For something did happen important and serious.

I believe I have told you, for the wisest of ends, A parson on C-g-s each morning attends: And whether he dreamt, or expected a fray, He pray'd against fighting more fervent that day; That the sword might be sheath'd, the musket unloaded, That quarrels might cease, and wars be exploded: The Lamb and the Lyon caress one another, The friend and the foe be like sister and brother. That these things might exist, he devoutly desir'd, Then took up his beaver and gravely retir'd.

Some time had elaps'd 'fore the combatants enter'd
But exactly how long-to tell I've ne'er ventur'd,
At last they came forward in battle array,
And shortly commenc'd this bloody affray.

'Pray who are the warriors?' said a man from a journey, A knight of New England and a knight of Hibernia.

Hibernia's brave knight at a desk sat a writing,
Taking notes we suppose or letters inditing.
He seems rather grave, 'tis some great undertaking,
Perhaps his last will and testament making.
Many heroes e'en now and warriors of yore,
Have follow'd this custom and done so before.

When all of a sudden was heard a loud thrumming Which sounded exactly like boys that were drumming: But alas! 'twas not that, for oh! vile to relate, 'Twas the Yankee a thumping poor Pat's aged pate, Who was by the desks and the chairs so entangled,

We thought he'd be maul'd and most cruelly mangled.
From the desks he escap'd, and got in the Area,
Receiving the blows of his bold adversary,
Which were laid on as thick as a shower of hail,
Or strokes of a Thrasher when handling his flail,
Sir Paddy perceiv'd he got weaker and weaker,
Made the best of his way to the rear of the Sp-k-r.
Sir Yankee, observing his foe had retreated,
Pursu'd him with wrath, gave him ditto repeated.
In the heat of the action they got out of sight,
Then appear'd in full view each horrible knight.
The knight of Hibernia to avenge all his wrongs,
In passing the fire had snatch'd up the tongs,
Grasp'd hold on one leg, and swore by his mission,
He'd send him to h-ll-to h-ll and perdition,
He'd take him between them in sight of the members,
And lay him to broil like a pig on the embers.
A Yankee young dog! to strike a bold Paddy,
A man old enough to be his grand daddy!

"What, broil me like pork? oh! Connecticut hear it,
Shall your member be broil'd! by G-d I can't bear it."
Sir Yankee got hoarse with rage and loud bawling,
He grappl'd Sir Pat, and down they came sprawling:
They fell with such force that the walls began shaking,
And the lookers thereon stood quivering and quaking,
For fear they were dead, as they lay without motion,
"Let's bleed 'em" says one, "aye, and give 'em a lotion,
Their habits are full, and exceedingly bulky,
Do call Doctor R-h* let him pop in his sulky;
We'll bandage their arms and make ev'ry provision,
He'll have nothing to do but make an incision:

I know he'll be here in a moment I warrant

And save, (if he's able), these valiant knights errant."

*Dr. Rush.

"Aye, aye, said a dry one who seem'd out of breath,
If they are not quite gone he'll bleed 'em to death,
He has skill it is true, but likes to enhance it,
To preach up the use of his d-m-nable Lancet.
But look at the warriors, behold now their workings,
I'll run in a moment and bring Doctor P-rk-s,*
The great stroking Doctor, who dispels with his arts
All disorders in nature by stroking the parts,
No bolus nor blister nor casing cephalic
Can cure half so quick as his points call'd metallic."

When lo! on a sudden as quick as an arrow, They fell both to kicking like crabs in a barrow, The knight of Hibernia it seems had got under, And they did all they cou'd to get them asunder, The Yankee kept twisting 'till we heard Paddy cry out "Oh the d-mn-able Yankee is gouging my eye out, Take him off was the word, my God! you're all stupid He's making old Paddy as blind as a Cupid."

The members collected-some time were debating, What mode was the best to effect separating; By the legs, cried a youth-some said, who were older, The legs will not answer-we vote for the shoulder; About shoulders and legs they made such a pother 'Till at last they agreed to one and the other; "Then I'll take a shoulder-and I earnestly beg, To be honor'd so far as to hold by the leg." This method was wise and judiciously plan'd, For in less than a trice legs and shoulders were man'd;

"And in case," said Tom Bowling, "your efforts shou'd fail, Hand the slack of a rope and we'll bouse by his tail,” A member observ'd who in speeches was fertile

*Dr. Perkins of "Tractor" fame.

They handled the knight like a vile snapping turtle;
"For God sake forbear, or his legs you'll disjoint;
I don't care a straw, I shall stick to my point.
To that you may swear and most firmly rely on,
If we don't take him off he'll kill the old Lyon.'

"Then we'll lose a large sum, for I'm certainly told,
Mister P-1* wish'd to know if he was to be sold,
If you'd sell him this beast 'twou'd enrich his museum:
Both he and his household wou'd all sing Te Deum.
And if in your wisdom this favour was granted,
The C-ng-s shou'd see him whenever they wanted;
Their wives and their children and dear little cousins,
Might come in for nothing, and view him by dozens.
He'd shew them his cage to prevent any puzzle,
And for fear of his spitting he'd clap on a muzzle."

By this time the heroes recover'd their feet,
And both in their turns, swore they'd conquer'd or beat,
Yet both seem'd inclin'd, so great was the slaughter,
To stop for a while and swallow some water;
For wine there was none, not the dregs of a bottle,
Or else there's no doubt they'd have moisten'd each
throttle.

New England's brave champion repair'd to a bench,*
Where he gave his parch'd bowels an excellent drench.
A tumbler he emptied; and after 'tis said

He pull❜d up bis breeches and cry'd "who's afraid?"

These words were scarce utter'd when behold on his

right,

Appear'd in full splendour Hibernia's brave knight,

*Peale.

At the easternmost part of C-g-ss Hall is a bench on which stands a pitcher of water to cool the throats of thirsty members.

Who had like himself just swallow'd a bumper,
And was ready to give Sir Yankee a plumper,
Which he did very shortly, just over the cheek,
But the weapon was light and the combatant weak.
Yet Sir Yankee retreated, retreated amain,
For he lost his stout stick or his hickory cane.
A member (I think a friend to Sir Yankee),
Deliver❜d the weapon-for which he said thankye;
The fight was renewing, 'twas just on the border,
But the Sp-k-r got up and wisely call'd Order.
The battle was clos'd-a parley was sounded,
Which gave great relief to the maim'd and the wounded,
The members all seated, to their stations return'd,
Some business was settled, and the C-g-ss adjourn'd.

But how felt the knights? is a pertinent question,
I therefore shall leave it-to their serious digestion.

For so daring an insult, so vile a convulsion, A member arose and mov'd for expulsion. But alas! it fell thro', the motion was lost,

And C-ng-ss decreed they shou'd both keep their post.

On this mem❜rable spot be planted a willow,
And C-ng-ss lament when reclin'd on their pillow;
Let the trumpet of fame blast the rumour abroad,
Let the sages of nations insert the record;
Let the voice of the people condemn the decree
Let the tide of each river wash it into the sea;
Let it e'en live for ages-but that is severe,
Let oblivion from time blot it out with a tear.

THE END

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