And declared that such a headpiece
Many a Prince down there might envy;
Till the cob your father gave him,
With a sledge to boot, in thanks
For his pleasant, friendly talk.—
Ah, but things went bravely then!
Provost,[1] Captain, all the rest,
Dropped in daily, ate and drank,
Swilling, till they well-nigh burst.
But 'tis need that tests one's neighbour.
Lonely here it grew, and silent,
From the day that "Gold-bag Jon"[2]
Started with his pack, a pedlar.
[Dries her eyes with her apron
Ah, you're big and strong enough,
You should be a staff and pillar
For your mother's frail old age,—
You should keep the farm-work going,
Guard the remnants of your gear;—
[Crying again.
Oh, God help me, small's the profit
You have been to me, you scamp!
Lounging by the hearth at home,
Grubbing in the charcoal embers;
Or, round all the country, frightening
Girls away from merry-makings—
Shaming me in all directions,
Fighting with the worst rapscallions—-
Peer.
[Turning away from her.]
Let me be.