Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. “Nothing can cheer me,” he said, “except champagne. She had no place she loved. ” “Forty what?” Anna asked bewildered. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York.
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