All females over seventeen, that out of doors are flocking,
Will sadly rue if there should be, a hole seen in their stocking,
Either in the leg or heel, the law to nothing flinches,
Each bustle must be stuffed with straw full nine feet eleven inches.
And very soon, in May or June, we will be amaz’d with wonder,
For it will either rain or freeze, with heavy claps of thunder,
The free hall is going to fall, believe me it’s no fable,
And legs of mutton from the clouds will fall upon the table.
No little boys must smoke cigars, nor yet be seen a courting,
Male and female under twenty-two, must not be seen a flirting,