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An Old Joke

Jests Home

AS a wag at a ball, to a nymph on each arm
Alternately turning, and thinking to charm,
Exclaimed in these words, of which Quin was the giver--
You're my Gizzard, my dear; and, my love, you're my Liver.
Alas! cried the Fair on his left--to what use?
For you never saw either served up with a goose!

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