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The Dying Negro [underlined with a dotted line]

Old Cato on his death-bed lying Worn out with work, and almost dying With patience heard his friends propose, What bearers for him they had chose. There's Cuff and Cæsar, Pomp and Plato "Dey do bery well," quoth Cato- And Bantam Phillip; now for to'ther We must take Scipio Bantam's brother. "I no like Scip" old Cato cries "Scip rascal, tell about me lies, "And get me whipped"- Ki 'tis all one Scip shall be bearer, Scip or none. "Mind me, quoth Cato, "if dat cur "Dat Scip, come bearer, Tho stir"-