The younger Cuffs with kinder souls shall share.—
Yet hold! I'm rich;—with one consent they'll say,
'You're welcome, Uncle, as the flowers in May.'
No; I'll disguise me, be in tatters dress'd,
750
And best befriend the lads who treat me best."
Now all his kindred,—neither rich nor poor—
Kept the wolf want some distance from the door.
In piteous plight he knock'd at George's gate,
And begg'd for aid, as he described his state;—