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The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait, beside! I 've promised to visit by dinner time Bagdat, and accept the prime Of the Head-Cook's pottage, all he 's rich in, For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: With him I proved no bargain-driver, With you, don't think I 'll bate a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe after another fashion."