Hard fate, but while our tears bemoan it,
Let us take up the corpse and BONE it,
Then place the mummy in a JAR,
Keep it from sausage-makers far,
Extract his heart to send to FRANCIS;
This gift from HER, his soul entrances,
Within his scarlet gold-laced JACKET
His heart makes a tremendous racket;
Visions of bliss arise, a surrogate,
Ay, and a wedding tour to HARROGATE.
When Rupert came to Fido, Anne uttered one indignant 'Rupert!' but as
he proceeded, she was too much confounded to make the slightest
demonstration, and yet she was nearly suffocated with laughter in the
midst of her vexation, when she thought of the ball at Hull, and
'Frank Hollis.' Elizabeth and Katherine too were excessively
diverted, though the former repented of having ever proposed such a
game for so incongruous a party. There was a little self-reproach
mingled even with Anne's merriment, for she felt that if she had more
carefully abstained from criticising the Hazlebys, or from looking
amused by what was said of them, Rupert would hardly have attempted
this piece of impertinence.
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