THE THREE
Buxome Maids of Yoel:
OR,
The P[l]easant Entreague betwixt them and a
Country Sive-maker, who left them a large Reckning to
pay for their Pissing in the Sive.
To the Tune of, The Guinney wins her. Licensed according to Order.
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Pray listen to this Ditty,
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for it will make you merry,
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Three Lasses fair and pretty,
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was treated with canary,
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In Yoel by a loving Friend,
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Who, it seems, did cry, Old Sives to mend;
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a jolly bonny Blade,
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and as he cry'd his trade,
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it was his chance to meet,
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these Lasses in the street,
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which he resolv'd to tread
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With wine, for they were buxome, brisk and fine.
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The first was mincing Sarah,
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the second buxome Betty,
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The third young modest Mary,
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all Lasses fair and pretty;
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With him they at the Tavern went,
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For to spend the day in sweet content;
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the Sive-maker and they,
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would frolick, sport and play,
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and call for liquour store,
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making the Tavern roar;
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the Sive-maker he swore
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That he, would tickle them above the knee.
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Brisk Betty did not fear him,
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but bid him use his pleasure,
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And straight she sat down near him,
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and kist her out of measure;
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At which young Sarah seem'd to frown,
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And her tears in sorrow trickl'd down,
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because he kist her first,
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who was the very worst;
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But prety Girls, said he,
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let's lovingly agree,
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and do not press on me
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So fast, I'll serve you all alike at last.
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Quoth Mary, I admire
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your tender kind embraces,
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It hithtens our desire,
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when we are joyning faces;
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By true experience this I know,
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Therefore I declare before we go,
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the Sive-maker shall be,
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Both loving, kind and free.
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Sweet Lasses, he reply'd,
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nothing shall be deny'd,
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if with a flowing tide
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You'll fill, this Sive here with your water-mill.
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Bess knew it must be vented,
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she was not for denying,
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The rest likewise consented,
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their flood gates they let flying;
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He held the Sive, they pour'd it in,
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Betty's engine play'd above his chin,
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and blinded both his eyes,
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he in a passion cries,
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I can't endure the smart,
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it cuts me to the heart;
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with that he did depart
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Away, and left them all the shot to pay.
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They laught to see him scour,
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and call'd for more canary,
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Then waiting there an hour,
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at length quoth modest Mary,
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I fear that he will come no more,
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Therefore let us call to [o]now the score;
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to this they straight agreed,
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the Drawer came with speed,
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and cry'd without delay,
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you must ten shillings pay,
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before you go your way,
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'Tis true, this made the Lasses all look ble[w].
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Tho' joys they had been reaping,
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yet seeing they were worsted,
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Poor Girls, they feel a weeping,
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and wanted to be trusted;
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The Drawer he began to rave,
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He would present satisfaction have
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they having then no stock,
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each Damsel pawn'd her smock,
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which was of dowlas fine,
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to pay for bread and wine,
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then went away at nine,
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And swore, they'd never piss in Sives no mo[re.]
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