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[ther?

How fares your comely Daughter and your Wife?
What, John and Allen? welcome by my Life!
The Miller faid; what Wind has blown you hi-
That which makes old Wives trudge, brought us
[together.
Who keeps no Man, must his own Servant be,
Our Manciple is very sick, and we

Are with the Corn from our good Warden come,
To fee it grown'd, and bring it fafely home.
Difpatch it, Sim, with all the haste you may.
It shall be done (he fays) without delay.
What will you do while I have this in Hand?
Says John, juft at the Hopper will I ftand,
(In my whole Life I never faw Grift grown'd,)
And mark the Clack, how justly it will found.

A ha, Chum John (fays Allen) will you Then will I watch how it steals out below.

fo?

Sim, at their Plot, maliciously did smile;

[beguile.

None cou'd, they thought, fuch learned Clarks He meant to caft a Mist before their Eye, (In fpight of all their fine Philofophy.) Neither fhould find where he convey'd the Meal; The narrower they watch'd,the more he'd Steal. Thefe Scholars for their Flour, fhall have the Bran; The learned'st Clark, is not the wisest Man. Then out he steals, and finds, where, by the Head, Their Horfe hung fasten'd underneath a Shed; He flips the Bridle o'er his Neck; the Steed Makes to the Fenns,where Mares and Fillies feed. Unmifs'd comes Sim, finds John fixt at his Poft, And Allen diligent no Meal was lost. Now do me Justice Friends, he fays, you can Convince your Warden I'm an honest Man. Now the great Work is done, theirCorn is grown'd, The Grift is fack'd, and ev'ry Sack well bound.

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2

John runs to fetch the Horse; aloud he cries,`
Come hither Allen; Allen to him flies.

[not I---

O Friend, we are undone-What mean you, John?
Look, there's the Bridle, but our Horfe is gone!
Gone! whither? fays he,-Nay Heav'n knows,
Out bolts Sim's Wife, and (with a ready Lie)
She cries, I faw him tofs his Head and play,
Then flip the loosen'd Reins, and Trot away.
Which Way? they both demand-With wanton
[Bounds,
I faw him fcamp'ring tow'rd yor Fenny Grounds:
Wild Mares and Colts in thofe low Marshes feed.
Away the Scholars run with utmost speed,
Forget their former cautious Husbandry;
Their Sack does at the Miller's Mercy lie..
He half a Bufhel of their Flour does take,
Then bids his Wife fecure it in a Cake.
I'll fend thefe empty Boys again to School,
To plod and study who's the greater Fool.

Look

Look where the Learned Blockheads make their

[way,

'Let us be merry, while thofe Children play.
These filly Scholars ran from place to place,
Now here, now there, unequal was the Chace.
They call him by his Name, Whistle, and cry
Ho Ball; but Ball is pleas'd' with Liberty..
At Night into a narrow Place they brought him,
Drove him into a Ditch, and there they caught him.

Weary and wet, as Cattle in the Rain,, Allen, and fimple John, come back again. Alas, cries John, would I had ne'er been born! When we return we fhall be laught to Scorn. Call'd by the Fellows, and our Warden, Fools;. Our Grift is ftoln, and we the Miller's Fools, Thus John complains; Allen without remorfe Goes to the Barn, and in he turns the Horfe.

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[Mire

Both cold and hungry, wet and dawb'd with
They find the Miller fitting at his Fire.
We can't return, they fay, before 'tis Light;
So beg for Lodging in your Mill to Night.

Simkin replies, Welcome with all my Heart,
I'll find you out the most convenient Part.
My House is straight, but you are learned Men;
You can by dint of Argument maintain,

That Twenty Yards a Mile in breadth comprise:
Now fhew your Art, and make a Miller wife,
Your merry Friend; but wet and clammy Earth,
Hunger and Cold, provokes few Men to Mirth.
A Man complies with neceffary things,
Content with what he finds, or what he brings.
'Tis Meat and Drink we earnestly defire;
To warm and dry us with a better Fire.

Look,

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