Rang backward through the surging vapours:

“My soul may go to hell for me;

Just lend a hand to save the papers!”

Look, that’s a Mayor—without, within!

From top to toe, from core to skin;

He’ll win his way, I’m certain, yonder,

Where his life’s toil shall have its price.

The Sexton.

And where may that be?

The Schoolmaster.