Page:Four merry tales.pdf/18

 ( 18 ) My darling boy indeed thou art, The father wile, 1 p'ie; So name the boon; promif: thee It ſhall not be denied. Then give me Sir, your long lafh'dwhip, And give your gig and pair. To drive alone to yonder town, And flourith through the fair. The father ſhook his head, My ſon, You know not what you afk; To drive a gig in crowded ſtreets Is no ſuch eaſy taſk. The horſes full of reſt and corn, Scarce I myſelf can guide And much ! feat, if you attempt, Some miſchief will betide. Then think dear boy, of ſomething elſe That's better worth your wiſhing; A bow and quiver, bats and balls, A rod and lines for fiſhing. But nothing could young Jehu pleaſe Except a touch at driving ; To as all in vain, his father found, To ſpend his breath in ſtriving. At leaf attend raſh boy! he cried, And follow good advice, Or in a ditch both sig and you Will tumbleia a rice. Spare ſpare the whip. hold hard ſhe reits The ſteeds go faſt enough; Keep in the middle beaten track, Nor croſs the rurs fo rough: