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Suche aparos on s woman

That, you seo, it must be true
She is always ceathly better

Than the beas-chas she can do! "

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Zelche Crep up quite undelaars
An' peeled on thin the wider Let line, Uncle Daw;

Let us line und love, and

rovdanych In' there hat tulby all alone

What's the world is a

when his wife with no one nigh to header.

Anddy? Sulawska

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KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF “O these are hard questions for my shallow witt CANTERBURY.

Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet :

But if you will give me but three weeks' space, FROM "PERCY'S RELIQUES."

Ile do my endeavor to answer your grace." An ancient story I'll tell you anon Of a notable prince that was called King John ; “Now three weeks' space to thee will I give, And he ruled England with main and with might, And that is the longest time thou hast to live ; For he did great wrong, and maintained little For if thou dost not answer my questions three, right.

Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee." And I'll tell you a story, a story so merry,

Away rode the abbot all sad at that word, Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury ;

And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford ; How for his house-keeping and high renown,

But never a doctor there was so wise, They rode poste for him to fair London towne.

That could with his learning an answer devise. An hundred men the king did heare say,

Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold, The abbot kept in his house every day ;

And he met his shepheard a-going to fold : And fifty golde chaynes without any doubt,

“ How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

home ; “How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee,

What newes do you bring us from good King

John ?"
Thou keepest a farre better house than mee ;
And for thy house-keeping anıl high renowne,
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown."

“Sad news, sad news, shepheard, I must give,

That I have but three days more to live ;
"My liege," quo the abbot, “I would it were For if I do not answer him questions three,

My head will be smitten from my bodie.
I never spend nothing, but what is my owne ;
And I trust your grace will doe me no deere,

“ The first is to tell him, there in that stead, For spending of my owne true-gotten geere."

With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,

Among all his liege-men so noble of birth,
“Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe, To within one penny of what he is worth.
And now for the same thou needest must dye ;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,

The seconde, to tell him without any doubt, Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. How soone he may ride this whole world about ;

And at the third question I must not shrinke, And first," quo' the king, “when I'm in this But tell him there truly what he does thinke."

stead, With my crowne of golde so faire on my head, “Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,

yet, Thou must tell me to one penny what I am That a fool he may learne a wise man witt? worthe.

Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your ap

parel, “Secondly, tell me, without any doubt, And Ile ride to London to answere your quarrel. How soone I may ride the whole world about ; And at the third question thou must not shrink, * Nay, frowne not, if it hath bin told unto me, But tell me here truly what I do think.” I am like your lordship, as ever may be ;

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And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood,

And drank it round and round; And still the more and more they drank,

Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,

of noble enterprise ; For if you do but taste his blood,

'T will make your courage rise.

[" The Vicar of Bray in Berkshire, England, was Simon Alleyn, or Allen, and held his place from 1540 to 1588. He was a Papist under the reign of Henry the Eighth, and a Protestant under Ed. ward the Sixth. He was a Papist again under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When this scandal to the gown was reproached for his versatility of religious creeds, and taxed for being a turn-coat and an inconstant changeling, as Fuller expresses it, he replied : Not so neither; for if I changed my religion, I ain sure I kept true to my principle, which is to live and die the Vicar of Bray." — DISRAELI.)

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,

Each man a glass in hand ; And may his great posterity

Ne'er fail in old Scotland !


In good King (harles's golden days,

When loyalty no harm meant,
A zealous high-churehman was 1,

And so I got preferment.
To teach my flock I never missed :

Kings were by God appointed,
And lost are those that dare resist
Or touch the Lord's anointed.
And this is law that I'll maintain

Until my dying day, sir,
That whatsoever king shall reign,

Still I'll be the Vicar of Bray, sir


THERE was (not certaine when) a certaine

preacher, That never learned, and yet became a teacher, Who having read in Latine thus a text Of erat quidam homo, much perplext, He seemed the same with studie great to scan, In English thus, There was a certaine man. But now (quoth he), good people, note you this, He saith there was, he doth not say there is ; For in these daies of ours it is most plaine Of promise, oath, word, deed, no man's certaine ; Yet by my text you see it comes to passe That surely once a certaine man there was :

But yet, I think, in all your Bible no man Can finde this text. There was a certaine

When royal James possessed the crown,

And popery came in fashion, The penal laws I hooted down,

And read the Declaration ;
The Church of Rome I found would fit

Full well my constitution ;
And I had been a Jesuit
But for the Revolution.

And this is law, etc.



When William was our king declared,

To ease the nation's grievance ; With this new wind about I steered,

And swore to him allegiance ; Old principles I did revoke,

Set conscience at a distance ; Passive obedience was a joke, A jest was non-resistance.

And this is law, etc.



He was in logic a great critic, Profoundly skilled in analytic ; He could distinguish and divide A hair, 'twixt south and southwest side ; On either which he would dispute, Confute, change hands, and still confute ; He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argniment, a man's no horse ; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl, A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, And rooks comittee-men and trustees. He'd run in debt by disputation, And pay with ratiocination : All this by syllogism true, In mood and figure he would do.

When royal Anne became our queen,

The Church of England's glory, Another face of things was seen,

And I became a Tory ; Occasional conformists base,

I blamed their moderation ; And thought the Church in danger was, By such prevarication.

And this is law, etc.

When George in pudding-time came o'er,

And moderate men looked big, sir, My principles I changed once more,

And so became a Whig, sir ;


And thus preferment I procured

From our new faith's-defender, And almost every day abjured The Pope and the Pretender.

And this is law, etc.

And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,

Or have them lustily trowled, God save the lives of them and their wives, Whether they be young or old !

Back and side, etc.




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A JOLLY fat friar loved liquor good store,

And he had drunk stoutly at supper ; He mounted his horse in the night at the door,

And sat with his face to the crupper : "Some rogue," quoth the friar, " quite dead to

remorse, Some thief, whom a halter will throttle, Some scoundrel has cut off the head of my horse, While I was engaged at the bottle,

Which went gluggity, gluggity — glug

- glug - glug.' The tail of the steed pointed south on the dale,

’T was the friar's road home, straight and level; But, when spurred, a horse follows his nose, not

his tail, So he scampered due north, like a devil : “This new mode of docking," the friar then said,

“I perceive does n't make a horse trot ill ; And 't is cheap, for he never can eat off his head While I am engaged at the bottle,

Which goes gluggity, gluggity -- glug

- glug--glug." The steed made a stop, - in a pond he had got,

He was rather for drinking than grazing ; Quoth the friar, “ 'T is strange headless horses

should trot, But to drink with their tails is amazing!" Turning round to see whence this phenomenon

rose, In the pond fell this son of a pottle ; Quoth he, “ The head 's found, for I'm under

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,

And a crab laid in the fire ;
A little bread shall do me stead,

Much bread I not desire.
No frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow,

Can hurt me if I wold, -
I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.

Back and side, etc.

his nose,

I wish I were over a bottle,

Which goes gluggity, gluggity - glug

--glug - glug !”


And Tyb, my wife, that as her life

Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till you may see

The tears run down her cheek ;
Then doth she trowl to me the bowl,

Even as a malt-worin should ; And saith, "Sweetheart, I took my part of this jolly good ale and old."

Back and side, etc.



Nugari solitos." — PERSIUS.
Whilom by silver Thames's gentle stream,

In London town there dwelt a subtle wight, A wight of inickle wealth, and mickle fame, Book-learned and quaint: a Virtuoso hight.

* In imitation of Spenser's style and stanza

Now let them drink till they nod and wink,

Even as good fellows should do ; They shall not miss to have the bliss

Good ale doth bring men to ;

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