A portly, love-resisting dame,
Contemptuous, proud, and haughty; But yet, tho' "fat, and forty," too, She was not two-and-forty.
And Willy long had sought and sighed, To gain this pretty maid; "I have no trade," said he, "so, sure, My love can't be betrayed."
To Martha, then, he trembling went, And said, "My dear, 'tis true, Though I have nothing in my store, I've love in store for you.
"And if thou wilt, thou may'st become--" But here his tongue was tied; And then she bridled up, and said, She ne'er would be his bride.
Then, turning Willie out of doors, She said, "Go, go along; I hate the man who's always Wright, Yet always doing wrong."
"I leave you, then," said he : "farewell! of peace I'm now bereft; If I an always right and wrong, You must be right--and left."
So then he closed his little store, Shut up his door and blind; And settled his accounts, and died, And left no Will behind. M.
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RICHARD AND BETTY AT HICKLETON FAIR.
As I waur ganging out last Sat'day neet to buy half-a pound o' bakon, who shon'd I meet but my old sweet-heart, Betty Hunt, un she said, "Aye, Richard, be that thou, "an I
said, "Ees, sure it be," un she said, "Richard, wudn't thee be ganging to Hickleton Vair at morrow?" and I said, "I nowd'nt not, haply I mought," and Betty la'aught; and I said, "I wou'd," and I did, and I went to Hickleton Vair.