She holds the basket in her hands:
“Now my good people don’t be lacking,
Here you may buy the best of blacking.”
Just below, the butchers there you’ll find,
With shows of meat to please the mind;
From most parts these butchers come;
Mind the steelyard—twig the thumb.—
There’s hares, rabbits, and partridges, and pheasants, too,
Some are shot by sportsmen, and some are hung by the neck, too—
There’s butter, bacon, cheese, and eggs,