1 pp 1813
Stretched on a poor pallet, in a bare chamber, lies a wretched sufferer ; by his side, sleeping in an armchair, is a lace ruffled and powdered doctor, in whose pocket appears a dose labelled Final. An undertaker, in professional weeds, is coming in at the door, with his crape-bound mute's wand in his hand, and a coffin strapped on his shoulder. The ghostly personification of Death, as a skeleton, holding up his hour-glass, is pointing his dart through the latticed window.
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