FORTUNE-TELLER. 
143 
HONEYSUCKLE. 
He sits ’mongst men like a descended god ; 
He hath a kind of honor sets him off 
More than a mortal seeming. 
Shakspeare. 
<**W8t&* 
The prettiest low-born lass that ever 
Ran on the green sward; nothing she does 
or seems 
But smacks of something greater than herself. 
Shakspeare. 
