[4.] A gentleman ordr'd a Crane for Supper; but his Cook, having a Sweetheart in a longing condition, cut off a Leg and sent her; so the one Legg'd Crane was set on the Table, which the Gentleman seeing, was enrag'd at his Cook; but he, being an arch Wag, readily told the Gentleman that Cranes had but one Leg, and avowed it with that Confidence, that he gain'd upon his wise Masters belief; but he, resolving to observe it as he was walking in the Fields one Frosty Morning, he saw a flock of Cranes, and, sending for his Cook, they held up one of their Legs under their Wings, as is the Custom of those birds in the cool weather. So, says his Cook, I hope your Worship is satisfied that they have but one Leg; but the Gentleman going pretty near to them, cries Cush, and frighted them up. Whereupon both Legs appear'd. Look, says the Gentleman, they have now two Legs. Oh, says the Cook, if you had cried Cush to that in the Dish, it wou'd have had two Legs too.
[26.] A Gentleman that had bred up a Young Colt, and had taught him many pretty pieces of Activity, but one among the rest, that of leaping so well, that no Ditch or Hedg, though never so broad or deep but he whipt over: nay, an ordinary House was nothing with him, or small Country Church also, but yet could never leap over the Steeple. It fortun'd that the Gentleman having occasion to ride abroad on him, came to a River that was about Twenty yards wide, which you'll say was very broad; yet this poor beast leapt with him to the very brink of the River on the other side, and there by chance lighted upon a stump of a Tree which ran into his Belly; which the Master seeing, alighted, and so left the poor Beast in that condition, yet would not kill him, and so went away. About six months after, this Gentleman was riding that way with his Man, and as they rode, says his Master, Don't you see something move yonder? Yes, says he, I think I see a Tree go; and coming near to it, they put aside all the Boughs, and there spied his late Horse, which he thought had died there: so they cut off all the Boughs, which were so many as to load almost three Carts, and then he took the poor Beast home, and cur'd him of all but the stump of the Tree which was in his Belly; and, indeed he need not do it, for he receiv'd a great advantage by it every year; that is, at least two or three load of Wood, which serv'd him to burn in his Chamber; for he would never burn any other than that, out of the love he bore to that poor beast of his. But some that heard him tell it, thought it savour'd too much of the Legend: Why, if you won't believe me, ask my Man, who knows it as well as I, and shall swear it too, if you please.
[18.]Here at last doth she lie in quiet,
Who whilst she lived was ever unquiet.
Her Husband prays, if by her Grave you walk,
You'd gently tread, for if waked, she'll talk.
The following was written in 1646, and is a satire on the then feeling of the army.
