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A TOUCH on the TIMES.
ALL you good people I pray you attend,
Unto these few verses which here I have penn’d,
Concerning provisions that is very dear,
Nor like to be cheaper in this present year.
The first is the farmer that soweth the corn,
I’m sure they’re as big rogues as ever were born;
They are not content with their going on,
Though the grain it turns out nine hundred to one.
The next is the miller that grinds in the mill,
He’s sure to take care his own bags to fill;
The devil’s so busy at taking his toll,
First with his dish and then with his bowl.
The next is the baker his oven does heat,
And he makes his bread the poor people to cheat;
And when his bread’s baken it’s as soggy as yarn,
It’s puffed up so well spunged with barm.
If you go to market for to buy some meat,
You must watch the butcher or he will you cheat;
He’ll cock up his steell-yard and make it go down,
And swear it is weight tho' it want a whole pound.
The gardeners they sit all in a row,
With potatoes, and carrots, and cabbage also;
They are as great vaillains as you could lack,
They might sell potatoes at four pence per peck.
As for the shop-keepers I think they are worse,
For they cheat us in tobacco and snuff;
O all they want is poor people to cheat,
For they make it out by selling short weight.
