“We’ll each give a guinea to stifle the joke:”
But Ned swore that no money should silence his tongue,
That the tale should be told in a mirth-moving song;
“As a caution,” cry’d Ned, “to all Abigails frail,
“That there’s more fun in f⸺g than jalapping ale.”
XI.
The story like wildfire o’er Cambria was spread,
From the borders of Chester, to fam’d Holyhead,
In a vein of good humour, the vein that is blue,
Will long be remember’d by me and by you: