[53.] On Shrove Tuesday last, I’ll tell you what pass’d In a neighbouring gentleman’s kitchen, Where pancakes were making, with eggs, and with bacon As good as e’er cut off a flitchen. The cook-maid she makes four lusty pancakes For William her favourite gardener, “Pray be quick with that four,” cries Jack, “and make more, For William won’t let me go partner.” Being sparing of lard, the pan’s bottom she marr’d In making the last of Will’s four; So she said, “Pr’ythee, John, run and borrow a pan, Or else I can’t make any more.” Jack soon got a pan, but found by his span That the first was more wide than the latter, This being a foot o’er, whereas that before Was three inches more and a quarter. Jack cries, “Don’t me cozen, but make half a dozen. For the pan is much less than before;” Says Will, “For a crown (and I’ll put the cash down) Your six will be more than my four.” “Tis done,” says brisk Jack, and his crown he did stake, So both of them sent for a gauger; The dimensions he takes, of all their pancakes, To determine this important wager. He found, by his stick, they were equally thick, So one of Will’s cakes he did take, Which he straight cut in twain, twelve one-fifth[1] the chord line; And gave the less piece unto Jack. “To the best of my skill,” says the gauger, “this will Make both of your shares equal and true;” Will swore that he lied, so, the point to decide, They refer themselves, sirs, unto you; Then pray give your answers, as soon as you can, sirs, For what with their quarrels and jars, We’re afraid of some murder, for no day goes over But they fight, and are cover’d with scars!
[ [1] Inches.