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And therefore in my gloomy cell, I have a place for thee. For you have been a friend indeed, I ſuch a taylor lack. Therefore come away with ſpeed, I'll bear thee on my back: Swet maſter Devil then he cry'd                        O pardon me I pray. I can't I won't he then reply'd,                        make haſte and come away. The taylor naked to the ſkin, his bed he did refrain, And down the town thro' thick & thin, he ran with might and main.

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C H A P. III.

How he ſerved the Cook-maid who broke his head with a Ladle, for making a Sop in the dripping pan.

ANOTHER pleaſant prank he play'd,                         upon a holiday, Unto his maſter's ſervant maid; which was a bloody fray.