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MY grandsire in the Mayflower came across the raging waters,
And so I sought to join the Revolutionary Daughters.
I studied up my pedigree, and when my search was ended,
I learned to my chagrin that from my first I had descended.
The cashier left his books in wild confusion and disorder,
And started to my last across the far Canadian border.
My whole is used by artisans of every clime and nation,
The blacksmith’s need, the mason’s pride, the school-girl’s detestation.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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