My aunt informs me that the smell
Is ranker than before--
I could not love her half so well
Loved I not baccy more.
The female mind! The female mind!
How beautiful it is!
And yet it has to sit behind
When it's compared with this--
This taste that falls upon my pipe,
That calms when woman clacks,
In the sweet season when he's ripe,
And just before he cracks.
* * * * *
THE MAGIC HORSE.
(_A PARALLEL NOT TO BE PUSHED TOO FAR._)
[Illustration]
["You are likewise to understand that MALAMBRUNO told me that,
whenever fortune should direct me to the knight who was to be
our deliverer, he would send him a steed--not like the vicious
jades let out for hire, for it should be that very wooden
horse upon which PETER of Provence carried off the fair
MAGALONA.... MALAMBRUNO, by his art, has now got possession
of him, and by this means posts about to every port of the
world."
"Hoodwink thyself, _Sancho_," said _Don Quixote_, "and get
up.
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