Him “the young Squire;” and as he pass’d their way
They’d call their daughters from the washing-tray,
Or spinning-wheel, or the old-fashion’d loom,
Or in the midst of scrubbing out a room,
Or at the pigs’ sty—where they were intent
Upon the beast,[165] which paid the yearly rent:
And forth they’d come—some with their naked arms;
Some with their “wee-uns;” some much skill’d in charms,—
For in most hamlets superstition reigns—
Where there is one at least, who sundry pains