Begginge, in gentlemanlie style,
Butte halfe ane hour's delaye.
Part Second.
The waggonere's bowels yearn towards the sunne.
'The crimson sunne was rising o'ere
The verge of the horizon;
Upon my worde, as faire a sunne
As ever I clapped eyes onne.
The passengers throwe the blame of the goose massacre on the innocent waggonere.