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218 Higher leap ! more madly now Whirl in giddy, senseless rout : Attention !—stand and make your bow. Sir ! the pretty show is out.' But then I said : ' These puppets, are they sold, And did you buy them ? or did make and mould, And dress these figures, that are sadly bruised ? ' 1 Sir ! and no wonder, they are daily used. I have made some, and have re-formed the rest, Altered, adapted, and improved, re-dressed. Their every motion, turn of head and limb, Each owes to me, for I created him. I like to make of solid wood the head, And for his heart a bullet cast, of lead. I form the springs of iron, though 'twill rust, And make up all the rest with bran and dust. Then dress my Marionette demure or smart, As I ordain for him his petty part. This one I altered, he was not so pliant, I cut him to a pigmy from a giant. Those that are lofty, whittle down a bit, Those that are low, with pair of stilts I fit. All wait implicitly upon my will, And at my pleasure their positions fill. Here's an archbishop, stuffed with cotton-wool, A pretty, feeble, and obsequious fool.' Then he held up with a contemptuous yawn, A doll in habit black and sleeves of lawn. Was making saints, but this aside he laid, " For, how a saint," he asked, " be fashioned, With knot at heart, and maggot in his head ? " Rejected, but in prelate's vesture set, It makes no saint, but makes a Marionette. Quite docile to whatever I may please, Bows, capers, jabbers too, or stands at ease.' I interrupted him, and said, ' I pray Tell me, are these dolls ratt'ling all the day ? ' He answered, ' Aye, they dance from rise of sun Until the day with all its toil is done.' Again I spoke : * And when the shutters close And weary men from labour seek repose, When gentle slumber draws the blinds of sight, And earth is silent in the trance of night, When from the aching heart and anxious head, By kiss of God, dull care is banished,
 * This one I got, half-formed, from one whose trade