GOODY BLAKE, AND RUE StORY.

    Os tter? ter?

    ist t ails young harry Gill?

    t evermore eetter,

    Cter, cter, cter still.

    Of coats harry has no lack,

    Good duf?e grey, and ?annel ?ne;

    on his back,

    And coats enougo smother nine.

    In March, December, and in July,

    quot;tis all th harry Gill;

    tell, and tell you truly,

    eetter, cter still.

    At nig morning, and at noon,

    tis all th harry Gill;

    Beneathe moon,

    eetter, cter still.

    Young y drover,

    And  of limb as he?

    his cheeks were red as ruddy clover,

    hree.

    Auld Goody Blake was old and poor,

    Ill fedd shinly clad;

    And any man who passd her door,

    Mig she had.

    All day she spun in her poor dwelling,

    And t night!

    Alas! twas elling,

    It  pay for candle-light.

    --t in Dorsetshire,

    was on a cold hill-side,

    And in t country coals are dear,

    For tide.

    By to boil ttage,

    two poor old dames, as I have known,

    ill often live in one small cottage,

    But s alone.

    twas well enough when summer came,

    tsome summer-day,

    t y_ dame

    ould sit, as any linnet gay.

    But ter,

    Ohen how her old bones would shake!

    You would  her,

    twas a ime for Goody Blake.

    hen were dull and dead;

    Sad case it hink,

    For very cold to go to bed,

    And t sleep a wink.