8
The Diſguiſed Squire.
There was a wealthy farmer, liv’d in the north country,
And he had a daughter, beautiful and free.
There was a ſquire, who liv’d hard by,
Upon this pretty fair maid he did fix an eye.
He hoiſted up his budget, and to the farmer’s houſe he came.
It’s have you any pots to mend, or have you any pans,
Or have you any lodgings, for me a ſingle man.
The farmer granted lodgings, but thinking of no harm,
It’s if you abide about this houſe, you muſt lie in the barn.
Away this fair maid goes, to make the tinker’s bed;
The tinker being ſmart of foot, got up to bar the door,
He took her in his arms, and threw her on the floor.
They toſs’d and tumbled, until the break of day;
He ſays, my pretty fair maid, it’s time I was away.
It’s oh! ſince you’ve got your will of me, pray tell me your name;
He whiſper’d ſoftly in her ear, they call me Davy Fa’
In remembrance of that merry night, among the peaſe ſtraw.
I believe you are with child, my dear, as I ſuppoſe you be;
Here is twenty guineas, to pay the nurſe’s fee.
When I come ⟨this⟩ road again, I’ll give you as much more,
In remembrance of that merry night, of the barring of the door.
FINIS.
J. Neilſon, printer.
