Mrs. Pott vithstand could not, vhen shot from Peter's
eye;
So presently plump at her he opes his organic battery,
And said the pill it vouldnt kill, no, not a little fly!
“Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?” remonstrated Mrs. Muff, pathetically.
“None vhatsumdever,” replied the stoical Brutus. “Vhat compassion have you ever had for mine?”
“Besides,” said he, “I svear, d'ye see,
By the goods and chattels of Doctor P.
By my vig and my cane.
Brass knocker and bell,