ing.] Have you seen the _Morning Crow_?

ALL. No.

RELATIVE. [Takes up a pamphlet.] Would you like to hear,
then--"_Tribute_. The customary tribute paid by the Schulze Society to
the memory of our worthy citizen, whom we commemorate in bronze on the
city's public square, took place this morning in presence of a great
crowd of people that greeted the memorial songs, sung in honor of the
illustrious departed, with hearty applause. The songs were rendered
by the great chorus with the usual precision and good ensemble. The
oration, which had been prepared with the utmost care, was delivered in
clear, resonant tones by the worthy shoemaker, Pumpen-Block. Among the
notables present we observed the city's burgomaster, the kinsman of the
departed, and others." [All laugh.]

RELATIVE. Isn't that rich?

ALL. Oh, it's priceless!--You wrote that.

RELATIVE. By the by, have you seen the cartoon of the reformer and the
street-paver? It's capital!

SHOEMAKER. But it was a bit extravagant to caricature them in that way!

RELATIVE. Oh, no sensible person has anything against the proposition;
but that it should fall into such hands--Hush, here he comes!

[Pehr is led on by guards, who place him in the pillory and adjust
neck-irons. The populace nudge each other and point at him. Shoemaker's
company slightly embarrassed. Enter a lyre player and an old blind
woman, with a painted canvas on a pole. Old woman sings and points at
canvas, which is painted in six panels--one for each stanza.]

OLD WOMAN.

There was a guileless youth
Who heard the people's wail;
Lawgivers sat in the square
And gaily quaffed their ale.

The youth to the people said:
"I would make your pathway fair!"
"There's trouble," the rulers cried,
"Sedition breeds in the air."

Still they sat in the square,
And still they quaffed their ale;
They talked of the people's good,
But heard not the people's wail.

The youth in the pillory stood,
For there he'd been given his place;
In the wag'nmaker's hen-coop the cock crew
As of yore in Caiphas' palace.

The great respect the law,
Their own renown they buy
With statues and tombs and gold
To praise them when they die.

The people pass under the yoke,
They wail through the vigils of night,
And wait till the cock shall crow
To herald an era of light.

[Shoemaker's company make wry faces