A _Man_ and a _Satyr_.
There was a _Man_ and a _Satyr_ that kept much together. The _Man_ Clapt
his Fingers one day to his Mouth, and Blew upon ’em. _What’s That for?_
(says the _Satyr_) why says he, My Hands are extream Cold, and I do’t
to Warm ’em. The _Satyr_, at Another time, found This Man Blowing his
Porridge: And pray, says he, _What’s the Meaning of that now?_ Oh! says
the _Man_, My Porridge is Hot, and I do’t to Cool it. Nay, says the
_Satyr_, if you have gotten a Trick of Blowing Hot and Cold out of the
same Mouth, I have e’en Done with ye.
The MORAL.
_There’s No Conversing with any Man that Carries_ Two Faces under One
Hood.