“They take the cocoa-nuts to the town kitchen,” said the captain, “to be made into cocoa-nut ice for the army breakfast; waste not want not, you know.”

I see the chariot, where, / Throughout the purple air, / The forelock'd monarch rides: / Arm'd like some antique vehicle for war, / Time, Hoary Time! I see thy scythed car, / In voiceless majesty,

odically positive matter

measled pork