LOVE AND MATRIMONY. 425

 

I gave him some garters,
To garter up his hose,
And a little handkerchief,

To wipe his pretty nose.

DCCLVIII.

I MARRIED my wife by the light of the moon,
A tidy housewife, a tidy one;

She never gets up until it is noon,
And I hope she’ll prove a tidy one.

And when she gets up, she is slovenly laced,
A tidy, &c.

She takes up the poker to roll out the paste,
And I hope, &c.

She churns her butter in a boot,
A tidy, &c.

And instead of a churn-staff she puts in her foot,
And I hope, &c.

_ She lays her cheese on the scullery shelf,
A tidy, &c.

And she never turns it till it turns itself,
And I hope, &c.