Mr. Tindal was the first that espy'd her;
He said that he lov'd a roast hare,
And that he would have her tit supper,
For he for the law did not care.

The better for to complete it,

He charged his gun well with slugs, With that he let fly at her,

And hat her betwixt the two lugs.

But when that he went for to seize her, He found he was depriv'd of his bit; He flung her down in a passion,

And look'd as if he'd been b-t.

The next was Will Dunn, our painter, Who wanted a novelty-bit ;

And then he let fly at her,

And kill'd her stone dead on her seat.

When firing he swore he had maul'd her He never miss'd a hare in his life;

And then in great trouble was he,

For to get her safe home to his wife.

The next was John Walker, a tailor,
He thinking poor Puss for to knap ;
Indeed, he endeavour'd to kill her,

But his gun very often did snap.

But then making all things in good order,
Then at her he did let drive,

And our serjeant was to have her tit supper,
To make them all merry belyve.

But I think he was damnable saucy,
For she wasn't meat for such as he;
He must get something else to his cabbage,
For it and hare-flesh 'll ne'er agree.

The next was Joe our barber,

One morning he rose in great haste, And swore he would have a hare tiv his supper, And give all his neighbours a taste.

When firing, he swore he had kill'd her,
O then in great trouble was he,
How that he might safely convey her,

For fear any body should see.

The next was John Blythman, Esquire,
Indeed, he was much to blame

To kill a hare with his gun, it shouldn't be done,
For it spoils all a gentleman's game.

Then Grundy came cursing and swearing,
Which is the chief end of his talk,

He shot her, and swore by his Maker,
He'd kill'd her as dead as a mawk.

But when that he went for to seize her,
And found it a skin stuff'd with hay,
He flung her down in a passion,

And cursed, and so went away.

Now I would have you all to take care for the future, And mind very well what I say,

When you fire your gun, pray ye see the hare run, Lest it prove a hare-skin stuff'd with hay.

But I think they were all finely tricked,
Beside wasting their powder and shot;
Let us have a good drink at the fancy
So, Landlady fill us the pot.

Here's the gentleman's health that contriv'd it,
For he is a right honest soul;

We'll laugh and we'll merrily sing,

When we're over a full flowing bowl.

Fal, lal, &c.

SONG VIII.

LIMBO.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

Tune, On a time I was great, now little I'm grown.

I'LL tell you a story, if you please to attend,
When my heart was afflicted with sorrow,
This song it is new, but it's absolute true;
It's for nothing I did buy or borrow :

But I was sent for to Preston's, one day the last week,
There I little expected with what I did meet,

But the country's all rogues, and the world is a cheat, And there they confined me in Limbo.

Like an innocent lamb to the slaughter 1 went,
Not knowing what was their intention,
But when I came there, O how I did stare,

When I found out their damned invention.

There was Preston the bailiff, Joseph Craggs was his

bum,

And there they did seize me as sure as a gun,

Upstairs then they hauled me into the back room,

And there they confin'd me in Limbo.

My belly was empty, though my stomach was full,
For to think there how I was trapanded,

Preston pull'd out a paper, and he made a long scrawl,
And he forc't me for to set my hand to't.

Then I open'd his closet, and got out a pie,
Then I call'd for liquor, while I was a-dry,

I knew somebody would pay for it, but what cared I ?
I wasn't to starve, though in Limbo.

Another poor fellow there happen'd to be,
Which they had confined in Limbo;
Brother-prisoner, says I, how shall we get free,
For want of this thing called rhino?
The poor fellow sat like one was half dead,
Then I gave him claret to dye his nose red;
But I never knew yet how the reckoning was paid:
I was resolv'd to live well though in Limbo.

There was Mr. Bum and I, we toss'd it about,
Until we began to grow mellow;

Three bottles of claret he there did me give,
Indeed he's a jolly good fellow.

Full bumpers of claret went round it is true,
Some drank for vexation till twice they did spew,
But ne'er in my life I saw such a merry crew,
As we were when I was in Limbo.

There was Ralph Jackson, the tanner, he came in by chance,

And did chatter and talk like a parrot;