LXVII.

But this poor girl was left in the great hall,

While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail,

Discussed (he hated beer yclept the "small")

A mighty mug of moral double ale.

She waited until Justice could recall

Its kind attentions to their proper pale,

To name a thing in nomenclature rather[OC]Perplexing for most virgins—a child's father.

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