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Never more from a stump had he stirred up the free and enlightened;

But though smart Keitt's mauleys, the mauleys of Grow were still

smarter;

Straight from the shoulder he shot,

not Owen Swift or Ned Adams Ever put in his right with more delicate feeling of distance. As drops hammer on anvil, so dropped Grow's right into Keitt

Just where the jugular runs to the point at which Ketch ties his drop-knot;

Prone like a log sank Keitt, his dollars rattled about him.

Forth sprang his friends o'er the body; first, Barksdale, wavingwig-wearer,

Craige and McQueen and Davis, the

ra'al hoss of wild Mississippi; Fiercely they gathered round Grow, catawampously up as to chaw him;

But without Potter they reckoned, the wiry from woody Wisconsin;

He, striking out right and left, like a catamount varmint and vicious,

Dashed to the rescue, and with him the Washburnes, Cadwallader, Elihu ;

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OUR brethren of New England use
Choice malefactors to excuse,
And hang the guiltless in their stead,
Of whom the churches have less
need;

As late it happened in a town
Where lived a cobbler, and but one,
That out of doctrine could cut use,
And mend men's lives as well as shoes.
This precious brother having slain
In times of peace an Indian,
Not out of malice, but mere zeal,
Because he was an infidel;
The mighty Tottipotimoy
Sent to our elders an envoy,
Complaining loudly of the breach
Of league held forth by brother
Patch,

Against the articles in force Between both churches, his and ours;

For which he craved the saints to render

Into his hands, or hang the offender. But they maturely having weighed They had no more but him of the

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The world stood trembling at Jove's throne;

While each pale sinner hung his head, Jove nodding shook the heavens, and said;

"Offending race of human kind, By nature, reason, learning, blind; You who through frailty stepped aside,

And you who never erred through pride;

You who in different sects were shammed,

And come to see each other damned; (So some folks told you, but they knew

No more of Jove's designs than you.)
The world's mad business now is o'er,
And I resent your freaks no more;
I to such blockheads set my wit,
I damn such fools-go, go, you're
bit!"

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Alike was famous for his arm and blade.

One day a prisoner Justice had to kill

Knelt at the block to test the artist's skill.

Bare armed, swart-visaged, gaunt, and shaggy-browed, Rudolph the headsman rose above the crowd.

His falchion lightened with a sudden gleam,

As the pike's armor flashes in the stream.

He sheathed his blade; he turned as if to go;

The victim knelt, still waiting for the blow.

"Why strikest not? Perform thy murderous act,"

The prisoner said. (His voice was slightly cracked.)

"Friend, I have struck," the artist straight replied;

"Wait but one moment, and yourself decide."

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