Difficulties — Consent.

‘ Night will come on; when seated snug,

‘ And you've perhaps begun some tale,

‘ Can you then leave your dear stone mug;

‘ Leave all the folks, and all the Ale?’

‘ Ay, Kate, I wool;— because I know,

‘ Though time has been we both could run,

‘ Such days are gone and over now;—

‘ I only mean to see the fun.’

She straight slipp'd off the Wall and Band,

And laid aside her Lucks and Twitches:

And to the Hutch she reach'd her hand,

And gave him out his Sunday Breeches.

His Mattock he behind the door

And Hedging-gloves again replac'd;

And look'd across the yellow Moor,

And urg'd his tott'ring Spouse to haste.