He that got good gold
For calves he never sold
Must put good money down
With a laugh, without a frown;
Or I'll destroy that man
With a bone-breaking rann.
I'll rhyme him by the book
To a blue-watery look.
MISER. Oh, Raftery, don't do that. I tasted enough of your
ranns just now, and I don't want another taste of them. There's
threepence for you. (_He puts three pennies in the plate._)