19
Now welcome Whitsuntide was come,
and boys with merry hearts
Were gone to visit their mamma,
and eat their pies and tarts.
As soon as Jehu saw his son,
a boon a boon, he cried,
O if I am your darling son,
let me not be denied.
My darling boy indeed thou, art,
the father wile replied:
So name the boon: I promise thee.
It shall not be denied.
Then give me. Sir, your long lash’d whip,
and give your gig and pair,
That I may drive to yonder town,
And flourish through the fair.
The father shook his head;-My son,
you know not what you ask;
To drive a gig in crowded streets
is no such easy task.
The horses full of rest and corn,
scarce I myself can guide.
And much I fear if you attempt,
Some mischief will betide.
Then think, dear boy, of something else
That’s better worth your wishing;
A bow and quiver, bats and balls,
a rod and lines for fishing.
