Oer

    t nig,

    And scatterd many a lusty splinter,

    And many a rotten boug.

    Yet never had she, well or sick,

    As every man who knew her says,

    A pile before-ick,

    Enougo warm hree days.

    No enduring,

    And made o ache,

    Could any thing be more alluring,

    to Goody Blake?

    And no must be said,

    hen her old bones were cold and chill,

    S  her bed,

    to seek the hedge of harry Gill.

    Now ed

    trespass of old Goody Blake,

    And vo sected,

    And ake.

    And oft from his warm ?re hed go,

    And to take,

    And t nig and snow,

    co seize old Goody Blake.

    And once, behind a rick of barley,

    t did and;

    the moon was full and shining clearly,

    And crisp  tubble-land.

    --he hears a noise--hes all awake--

    Again?--on tip-toe dohe hill

    ly creeps--tis Goody Blake,

    S the hedge of harry Gill.

    Right glad was he when he beheld her:

    Stick after stick did Goody pull,

    ood behind a bush of elder,

    till she had ?lled her apron full.

    urned about,

    to take,

    arted for,

    And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.

    And ?ercely by took her,

    And by t,

    And ?ercely by the arm he shook her,

    And cried, quot;Ive caug last!quot;

    thing said,

    fall;

    And kneeling on ticks, she prayd

    to God t is the judge of all.

    Sherd hand uprearing,