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tive adventure of, 239-240— Wilbur, Mrs., an invariable rule
THE UNHAPPY LOT OF MR. KNOTT.
SHOWING HOW HE BUILT HIS HOUSE AND HIS
WIFE MOVED INTO IT.
My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott,
From business snug withdrawn,
And twelve feet more of lawn.
He had laid business on the shelf
To give his taste expansion,
The building mania can shun,
A mediæval mansion.
He called an architect in counsel ;
" I want,” said he, “a-you know what,
À thing complete from chimney-pot
Here's a half-acre of good land;
Just have it nicely mapped and planned And make your workmen drive on ;
Meadow there is, and upland too,
And I should like a water-view, D' you
think you could contrive one ? (Perhaps the pump and trough would do, If painted a judicious blue?) The woodland I've attended to ;”
(He meant three pines stuck up askew, Two dead ones and a live one.)
“A pocket-full of rocks 'twould take To build a house of free-stone,
But then it is not hard to make
The cunning painter in a trice
And people think it very gneiss
My money never shall be thrown
Was reared for Knott to dwell in ;
Had satisfied Fluellen ;
Knott had it all worked well in,
Too small to hang a bell in ;
up and down and here and there, With Lord-knows-whats of round and square