o took it, three. Four got Robinson; five got Dix; Johnson primus demanded six; And so the sum kept gathering still Till after the battle of Bunker's Hill. When paper money became so cheap, Folks wouldn't count it, but said ‘a heap,’ A certain Richards, the books declare,— (A. M. in ‘90?
I've looked with care Through the Triennial,—name not there,) This person Richards was offered then Eight score pounds, but would have ten; Nine, I think, was the sum he took,— Not quite certain,—but see the Richards was offered then Eight score pounds, but would have ten; Nine, I think, was the sum he took,— Not quite certain,—but see the book. By and by the wars were still, But nothing had altered the Parson's will. The old arm-chair was solid yet, But saddled with such a monstrous debt! Things grew quite too bad to bear, Paying such sums to get rid of the chair! But dead men's fingers hold awful tight, And there was the will in black and white, Plain enough for a child to spell. What should be done no man could tell, For the chair was a kind of a nightmare curse, And every season but made it worse. As a last resort