Since I was here last Easter;
I broke his Head with the Pewter Pot,
And gave him not a Teaster.
But why, d’ye think, I serv’d him so?
What Flesh alive could bear it?
I’d call’d a dozen Times, I trow,
Yet the Dog would bring no Claret.
This Discipline was not in vain,
For h’as his Manners mended;
I’ve been here twenty Times since then,