[T]he moiſt ſtarre, Vpon whoſe influence Neptunes Empier ſtands, Was ſicke almoſt to doomeſday with eclipſe, […]

Star reporter, leg-man, cub, veteran gray in the trade—one and all they tried to pin the Bat like a caught butterfly to the front page of their respective journals—soon or late each gave up, beaten. He was news—[…]—the brief, staccato recital of his career in the morgues of the great dailies grew longer and more incredible each day.

“Pardy,” return’d the king, “but still / My joints are somewhat stiff or so. / My lord, and shall we pass the bill / I mention’d half an hour ago?”

the new intake of students