Miss Bridget _Trot_, a "_wo_"-man was,
Of excellent repute,
Who _kept a stand_ in Leadenhall,
And there disposed of fruit.
And though in features rather _dark_,
No _fairer_ could be found;
For what she sold, like _ringing_ gold,
When _peeled_, was always _sound_!
She had moreover notions _high_,
And thought herself above
The very _low_-ly common way
Of _falling_ into love.
And therefore when to her his _suit_
A _Snip_ did often press
With vows of love, she _cut_ him _short_
At _length_, without _re-dress_.
Yet nothing odd was there in this
One case, it must be said;
For who that wish'd a _perfect_ man
Could with a _ninth part_ wed?
Not she for one, whatever he
Might do to make him _smart_,
And howsoe'er her saying "Nay"
Might add it to his heart.
'Tis very strange, (yet so it is,)
That vows should go for naught.
But she who _strove_ to 'scape love's _toils_
Quite unawares was caught!
For though so _hard_ to Snip _at first_,
_At last_ it chanced that she
A sort of soft emotion felt
Towards one Timothy,
A butcher--_Green_ by name, but _red_
In face, as was his cap,
And though he seldom tasted _wine_,
A _port_-ly sort of chap.
This man one day in passing by,
In taste for what she'd got,
Saw Biddy's stall--and 'twas her _fate_
To sell to him a _lot!_
She thought his manners very sweet,
He gave so fond a gaze;
(But dashing _blades_ of such like trades
Have ever _killing_ ways!)
And whilst he paid the _coppers_ down,
He had the _brass_ to say
Her _fruit_ was sweet, but sweeter still
The _apple_ of her eye.
Besides all this, he looked so neat
Whilst shouldering his tray;
So what with _steel, et cetera,_
Her heart was _stole_ away!
Lo! _shortly after_ both agreed,
They fixed the wedding day,
But _long before_ that day arriv'd
He took to stop away!
From that same time her peace of mind
And comfort were at _steak_--
She did so _lean_ to Mr. Green,
Her heart was like to break!
At last she went one morn to see
What he could be about,
And hoped, alone, to find him _in_,
But he had just popt _out_.
She ax'd, "Is Mr. Green at home?"
Of one who, with a laugh,
Replied, "He's not! but if you please
I'll fetch _his better half_."
"His what?" scarce _uttered_ Bridget out,
With _utter_most dismay;
And _there_ she stopt, she could no more,
And nearly swoon'd _away!_
But when at length she was herself,
And saw her faithless clown.
She straightway went to blow him _up_,
But got a good set _down_!
"Oh, cold and faithless Tim," quoth she,
"You vowed you couldn't _smother_
Your _burning_ love for me, but now
You're married to another!"
"Is this the way you treat me, sir?
Too _cheaply_ was I bought!
I loved you _dearly_, but it seems
That that _all went for naught_."
She sighed, and gave one parting look,
Then tore herself away
From her false swain and Mrs. Green,
For ever and a day!
And _very_ soon got _very_ ill,
And _very_ quick did die,
And _very_ truly _veri_fied
Her love for Timothy!