Who to contention as to trade are led,
To whom dispute and strife are bliss and bread.
There is a doubtful pauper, and we think
'Tis with us to give him meat and drink;
There is a child, and 'tis not mighty clear
Whether the mother lived with us a year;
A road's indicted, and our seniors doubt
If in our proper boundary or without:
But what says our attorney? He our friend
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