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Over my shoulder as I wrote; "although
I can't exactly comprehend its meaning.
For my part, I have long been a petitioner
To Mr. John McComb, the Street Commissioner—

ci.

"That he would think of Weehawk, and would lay it

Handsomely out in avenue and square;
Then tax the land, and make its owners pay it
(As is the usual plan pursued elsewhere);
Blow up the rocks, and sell the wood for fuel—
'Twould save us many a dollar, and a duel."

cii.

"The devil take you and John McComb," said I;

"Lang, in its praise, has penned one paragraph,
And promised me another. I defy,
With such assistance, yours and the world's laugh;
And half believe that Paulding, on this theme,
Might be a poet—strange as it may seem."

ciii.

For even our traveller felt, when home returning

From that day's tour, as on the deck he stood,
The fire of poetry within him burning;
"Albeit unused to the rhyming mood;"
And with a pencil on his knee he wrote
The following flaming lines