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NUTTING.
—————————It seems a day,
One of those heavenly days which cannot die,
When forth I sallied from our cottage-door,[1]
And with a wallet o'er my shoulder slung,
A nutting crook in hand, I turn'd my steps
Towards the distant woods, a Figure quaint,
Trick'd out in proud disguise of Beggar's weeds
Put on for the occasion, by advice
- ↑ The house at which I was boarded during the time I was at School.
