dicularly in the air.
"What occurs? The gallant caitiff,
Noticing the swain is poor
(Courtesy with him is native,
Not like you, suburban boor),
Bows, and says in accents sunny,
'Pass along, Sir—make good speed;
I'm convinced you've got no money
And I do not want your bleed.
"'Sweet be Maytime to your noses;