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PAGE 2

Parson Turell’s Legacy; Or, The President’s Old Arm-chair
by [?]

When paper money became so cheap,
Folks would n’t count it, but said “a heap,”
A certain RICHARDS,–the books declare,–
(A. M. in ’90? I’ve looked with care
Through the Triennial,–name not there,)–
This person, Richards, was offered then
Eightscore pounds, but would have ten;
Nine, I think, was the sum he took,–
Not quite certain,–but see the book.
By and by the wars were still,
But nothing had altered the Parson’s will.
The old arm-chair was solid yet,
But saddled with such a monstrous debt!
Things grew quite too bad to bear,
Paying such sums to get rid of the chair
But dead men’s fingers hold awful tight,
And there was the will in black and white,
Plain enough for a child to spell.
What should be done no man could tell,
For the chair was a kind of nightmare curse,
And every season but made it worse.

As a last resort, to clear the doubt,
They got old GOVERNOR HANCOCK out.
The Governor came with his Lighthorse Troop
And his mounted truckmen, all cock-a-hoop;
Halberds glittered and colors flew,
French horns whinnied and trumpets blew,
The yellow fifes whistled between their teeth,
And the bumble-bee bass-drums boomed beneath;
So he rode with all his band,
Till the President met him, cap in hand.
The Governor “hefted” the crowns, and said,–
“A will is a will, and the Parson’s dead.”
The Governor hefted the crowns. Said he,–
“There is your p’int. And here ‘s my fee.

“These are the terms you must fulfil,–
On such conditions I BREAK THE WILL!”
The Governor mentioned what these should be.
(Just wait a minute and then you ‘ll see.)
The President prayed. Then all was still,
And the Governor rose and BROKE THE WILL!
“About those conditions?” Well, now you go
And do as I tell you, and then you’ll know.
Once a year, on Commencement day,
If you ‘ll only take the pains to stay,
You’ll see the President in the CHAIR,
Likewise the Governor sitting there.
The President rises; both old and young
May hear his speech in a foreign tongue,
The meaning whereof, as lawyers swear,
Is this: Can I keep this old arm-chair?
And then his Excellency bows,
As much as to say that he allows.
The Vice-Gub. next is called by name;
He bows like t’ other, which means the same.
And all the officers round ’em bow,
As much as to say that they allow.
And a lot of parchments about the chair
Are handed to witnesses then and there,
And then the lawyers hold it clear
That the chair is safe for another year.

God bless you, Gentlemen! Learn to give
Money to colleges while you live.
Don’t be silly and think you’ll try
To bother the colleges, when you die,
With codicil this, and codicil that,
That Knowledge may starve while Law grows fat;
For there never was pitcher that wouldn’t spill,
And there’s always a flaw in a donkey’s will!