7
Mrs Runnington fell in the snare,
Thus laid by this amorous sprig;
Believing 'twas Natural hair.
As he did Mistress Runnington's wig.
His kissed her, the bargain to strike;
For they both had agreed on the match,
When the wire-work of her vandyke,
Caught the buckle that fastened his scratch.
In vain they both struggled and grinned,
'Twas usless to labour and pull,
Their nappers as tightly were pinned,
As a dog at the nose of a bull.
At length, both the fabrics crazy,
By a resolute effort, and big,
Down fell Mr Doddington's jasey,
And poor Mrs. Runnington's wig.
Now, as bald as my hand or two cootes,
They stood petrified at the disaster;
But it soon finished all their disputes,
And tied their affection the faster.
Each admiring the other's good sense,
Made the best of their dismal miscarriage;
And alleged in their mutual defence
