An Old Joke


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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