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As smokes upon the silver plate of the luxurious pamper'd great.
So to this cot of homely thatch, In the same plight the Genius came: Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch ; What want you Sir ?—God save you, dame. And so he told the piteous tale, Which you
have heard him tell before; Your patience and my own would fail Were I tell it o'er and o'er. Suffice it, that my goody's care Brought forth her best, tho’ simple fare, And from the corner-cupboard's board, Her stranger guest the more to please, Bespread her hospitable board With what she had 'twas bread and cheese.
'Tis honest tho' but homely cheer;
No matter what was after said, He eat and drank and went to bed.
And now the cock his mattins sung,
your hearty Fare ;
- No, quoth the dame, I'm poor as you,
But first reply'd the wand'ring guest,
you, she said, and shut the door, Turn’d to her work, and thought no more. And now the napkin which was spread To treat her guest with good brown bread, She folded up with nicest care ; When lo! another napkin there! And every folding did beget Another and another yet. She folds a shift-by strange encrease, The remnant swells into a piece. Her Caps, her Laces, all the same, Till such a quantity of Linen, From such a very small beginning, Flow'd in at once upon the dame, Who wonder'd how the deuce it came, * That with the drap'ry she had got Within her little shabby cot,
She might for all the town provide,
It happen'd that th' Attorney's wife, Who, to be sure, took much upon her, As being one in higher Life, Who did the Parish mighty honour, Sent for the dame, who, poor and willing Would take a job of charing work, And sweat and toil like any Turk, To earn a sixpence or a shilling.
She could not come, not she indeed ! She thank'd her much, but had no need.
Good news will fly as well as bad,
Now all was racket, noise and pother, Nell running one way, John another, And Tom was on the coach-horse sent, To learn which way the Pedlar went. Thomas return'd;-the Pedlar brough
-What could my dainty Madam say,
Upon my word, it shocks me much, ---But there's such thieving here of late Not that I dream'd that you were such, When you came knocking at my gate. I must confess myself to blame, And I'm afraid you lately met Sad treatment with that homely dame, Who lives on what her hands can get. Walk in with me at least to-night, And let us set all matters right. I know my duty, and indeed Would help a friend in time of need. Take such refreshment as you find, I'm sure I mean it for the best, And give it with a willing mind To such a grave and sober guest.