University of Virginia Library

Things grew worser still, and worser,
Fortune, I had cause to curse her,
Coming home, I lost my wife.
And, so say I, why, Doll, good bye,
The poor wench was very old;
Then, why take on, if so be she's gone,
I can never hear her scold.

(Speaking).
To be sure she was a tight hand at that work, and had an agreeable way of throwing things at one's head; but, poor soul, I lov'd her so well, that now she is gone, I can't help singing

toll loll, &c.