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A SUMMONS.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

IT was the frequent postman

Who opened wide my door.

He gayly tossed a letter

On the broom-neglected floor,

And remarked that I was debtor

To the Dean for this one "shore,"

And be walking straight I'd better;

Then departing said no more.

Exit that eccentric bore.

I snatched it from the carpet,

And gazed upon the billet,

And observed the cramped handwriting,

With its letters shaped so illy

That they seemed to have been fighting;

Then my cheek outvied the lily,

For I feared a summons, citing

Me to visit Mr. Hill; - he

"Ships" the culprit, will he, nil he.

My sins were red as scarlet

From a proctor's point of view; -

Far more read than is Magenta, -

And I thought, or rather knew,

That the Faculty had sent a

Warning home for quite as few

Boyish faults as those which enter

On my page, - I, rather blue,

Tear the envelope in two.

O, howl for exultation!

Gentle reader, list; know that a

Hatter of undoubted talent

Thus tries circulars to scatter;

Hoping by this means he shall ent-

Ice us to peruse the latter-

Quite an entertaining valent-

Ine, except the subject-matter.

Would you patronize the hatter?

C. A. M.

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