Eben.—
I’ve troubles, yes—particularly three;
I’d like to find out by what moral right
A lot of city swells come out to fight
And chase me ’round the country—that’s the first.
And then I have a most infernal thirst,
As if I’d eaten pepper, salt, or cinnamon,—
Cara.—
Ah! Cinnamon!!!
Eben.—