A farmer’s wife, on old blind Ball,
Went slowly on the road,
With butter, eggs, and cheese, and cream.
In two large panniers stowed.
Ere Ball could stride the rut, amain
The gig came thundering on,
Crash went the panniers, and the dame
And Ball lay overthrown.
Now through the town the mettled pair
Ran rattling o’er the stones;