Smith transferred it to one of the BROWNS, And took his money,—­five silver crowns. Brown delivered it up to MOORE, Who paid, it is plain, not five, but four. Moore made over the chair to LEE, Who gave him crowns of silver three. Lee conveyed it unto DREW, And now the payment, of course, was two. Drew gave up the chair to DUNN,—­ All he got, as you see, was one. Dunn released the chair to HALL, And got by the bargain no crown at all.  —­And now it passed to a second BROWN, Who took it, and likewise claimed a crown.  When Brown conveyed it unto WARE, Having had one crown, to make it fair, He paid him two crowns to take the chair; And Ware, being honest, (as all Wares be,) He paid one POTTER, who took it, three.  Four got ROBINSON; five got DIX; JOHNSON primus demanded six; And so the sum kept gathering still Till after the battle of Bunker’s Hill.  —­When paper money became so cheap, Folks wouldn’t count it, but said “a heap,” A certain RICHARDS, the books declare, (A.M. in ’90?  I’ve looked with care Through the Triennial,—­name not there,) This person, Richards, was offered then Eight score pounds, but would have ten; Nine, I think, was the sum he took,—­ Not quite certain,—­but see the book.  —­By and by the wars were still, But nothing had altered the Parson’s will.  The old arm-chair was solid yet, But saddled with such a monstrous debt!  Things grew quite too bad to bear, Paying such sums to get rid of the chair!  But dead men’s fingers hold awful tight, And there was the will in black and white, Plain enough for a child to spell.  What should be done no man could tell, For the chair was a kind of nightmare curse, And every season but made it worse.

  As a last resort, to clear the doubt,
  They got old GOVERNOR HANCOCK out. 
  The Governor came with his Light-horse Troop
  And his mounted trackmen, all cock-a-hoop;
  Halberds glittered and colors flew,
  French horns whinnied and trumpets blew,
  The yellow fifes whistled between their teeth
  And the bumble-bee bass-drums boomed beneath;
  So he rode with all his band,
  Till the President met him, cap in hand. 
  —­The Governor “hefted” the crowns, and said,—­
  “A will is a will, and the Parson’s dead.” 
  The Governor hefted the crowns.  Said he,—­
  “There is your p’int.  And here’s my fee. 
  These are the terms you must fulfil,—­
  On such conditions I BREAK THE WILL!”
  The Governor mentioned what these should be. 
  (Just wait a minute and then you’ll see.)
  The President prayed.  Then all was still,
  And the Governor rose and BROKE THE WILL! 
  —­“About those conditions?” Well, now you go
  And do as I tell you, and then you’ll know. 
  Once a year, on Commencement-day,
  If you’ll only take the pains to stay,
  You’ll see the President in the CHAIR,
  Likewise the Governor sitting there.