University of Virginia Library


20

A miller with his sack, once made a mighty crack,
Nor lord nor king, cou'd envy bring,
Whilst his mill went clack clack clack.

(Speaking).
Now you say all millers are rogues in grain, and ought to be well thrash'd; but I say, I am as honest as the world will let me be; and though all is grist that comes to my mill, I never sack my neighbours' property.—“Come, come, no lying, friend.” Upon my honor, no; unless it be to get

Pudding &c.