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And drove the cattle through the parks,
away to the field he goes,
The fryar did not rise to soon,
'cause of the morning air;
But yet before it was high noon,
he ran and found him there.
For all alone this little lad,
was standing by his cows;
The fryar he was raving mad,
and knit his ragged brows.
Said he, young villain blush for shame;
why do you silent stand?
What have you done to your step dame,
come tell me out of hand?
Now if yourself you cannot clear,
take nottice it is so;
I'll make a cripple of you here,
you shall not stand or go.
The boy reply'd don't threaten me,
nor make so much ado;
My step mother, I know what she
is, full as well as you.
Sir fryar, be not in a rage,
nor such hard things report,
For tho' I am of tender age
I'll shew you pleasant sport.
Stand by, and you shall see me shoot,
yon pheasant of the tree;
The mark I'll hit without dispute,
and give the bird to thee.
'This pretty pheasant perching fat,
'upon a thorny briar,
'Now Jack he had no sooner shot,
'but straightway ran the fryar.
'He being eager of his prey,
'did to the bush advance;
'Jack on his pipe began to play,
'which made him skip and dance.
