| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - Now just such a mess of delicious hot pottage Was smoking away when they enter would the cottage, And casting a truly delicious perfume Through the whole of an ugly, old, ill-furnish would room; 'Hot, smoking hot,' On the fire was a pot Well replenish'd, but really I can not say with what; For, famed as the French always are for ragouts, No creature can tell what they put in their stews, Whether bull-frogs,
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