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One story, as my great grandmother
Was wont to say, brings in another;
So, gentle folks, before I leave you,
One story more I mean to give you,
Which I shall very soon discuss;
Then hearken, Sirs, it follow thus;
An honest Man once had a Mare,
Right well equipp'd with riding gear,
Well fed, and sleek like any plum
The fiend a lirk was in her bum,
The master, when he did bestride her,
Was careful softly still to ride her.
Much pampering is oft pernicious;
So prov'd it here, the jade turn'd vicious.
Now she begins to play her tricks,
And farting full, she spurns and kicks;
But too well fed, and kept too idle,
Turns restive, and resists the bridle;

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And waxing wild she quite disdains
Her master's government and reins,
And off she gallops from the manger:
By comes a little sneaking Stranger,
And jumps into the empty saddle,
Which he had long'd for from the cradle.