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In a rage then he threw it aside, And grumbling took up another, But when to his cheek 'twas applied, It prov'd just as bad as its brother. He stampt, and he store, like one mad, And each razor he tried o'er and o'er, And mutter'd as how he was had, And dash'd the whole lot on the floor, Ri um ti idity, a &c.

"This Moses," cried Ralph, “is a cheat, But for this he shall zartainly pays, As with him no doubt I shall meet, When to market l'se carry our hay." As he said, zo it prov'd in the end; For no sooner the Jew met his zight. Then, enrag d, he cry'd harkee my friend, To throttle thee would be but right." Ri um ti idity, a &c.

The Yew star'd like one in amaze, and cried out, "vat ish it you're at?" "How durst you sell razors like these?" Roard out Ralph, “cheat, come answer mit that." At this Moses 'gan for to rave, How it wa'n't using honesht folks well, For the razors were not made to shares 'Pon his conscience, but only to sell, Ri um ti idity, a &c.

The mob, who the quarrel had heard, Agreed that the Jew was a cheat,