LXXII

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LXXII

“Well, let us see⁠—tenth book and chapter nine,”⁠—

Thus Crafticant pursues his diary:⁠—

“ ’Twas twelve o’clock at night, the weather fine,

Latitude thirty-six; our scouts descry

A flight of starlings making rapidly

Towards Thibet. Mem.:⁠—birds fly in the night;

From twelve to half-past⁠—wings not fit to fly

For a thick fog⁠—the Princess sulky quite:

Call’d for an extra shawl, and gave her nurse a bite.