A _Mole_ and _her Dam_.
Mother (says a _Mole_ to her _Dam_) _Here’s a Strange Smell Methinks_.
And then she was at it again, _There’s a Mulberry-Tree I perceive_. And
so a Third Time, _What a Clattering of Hammers do I hear_. Daughter says
the Old One, You have now quite Betray’d your self; for I thought You had
Wanted only One Sense, and now I find you want Three; for you can neither
Hear, nor Smell, any more then you can See.
The MORAL.
_Men Labour under Many Imperfections that No Body would take Notice of,
if themselves were not Over sollicitous to Conceal them._