THE
Crafty Country Woman:
OR,
The Pillory Baker Out-witted
By his Neighbour's Buxome Wife, who made him pay severely for
the use of her merry Water-mill. Tune of, The beating of the Drum, etc.
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A Baker lives in Edmonton,
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that dearly loves the Poor;
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In e'ry Peck of Wheaten-bread,
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he wants a Pound* or more;
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Besides his Barly-meal,
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he mingles at his Mill:
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But the Baker ground his Corn we hear,
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in a Woman's Water-mill.
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In South-street lives a Husband-man,
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but I'll forbear his name;
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He has a brisk and jovial Wife,
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is counted of the Game:
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The Baker was resolved
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that she should try her skill;
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And he carried her his Corn
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to grind in her Water-mill.
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He kept this Woman company,
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full half a Year or more;
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Till he for Bread had trusted her
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twelve Shillings on the Score;
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But wanting of his Mony,
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he carry'd her a Bill;
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And then she turn'd the flash off
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from her Water-mill.
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If you ask me for Mony,
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you sorry Rogue, said she,
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I'll go unto a Justice,
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and swear you ravish'd me,
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For I will have my Tole,
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now you have ground your fill;
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You might have ground at home,
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in your Wive's Water-mill
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Her talking so rashly,
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put him into a fear;
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He seem'd to yield unto her,
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saying, 'Hold your tongue my Dear;
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'If ever I do ask you more,
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use me as you will:
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'But now I'll grind at home,
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my Wive's Water-mill.
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But in a short time after,
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this simple foolish Ape
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Arrested her Husband,
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and then she swore a Rape;
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Which made him for to stamp and swear,
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to see the biter Pill;
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That the Woman would be paid,
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for his grinding in her Mill.
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Then he through perswasions,
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did yield for to agree;
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A Mark he gave the Bailiffs,
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which is their usual fee;
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The debt he did forgive,
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though sore against his will,
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And he gave her twenty Shillin[gs]
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for his grinding in her Mill.
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And so to end the Quarrel,
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they both did give release:
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But now the Baker's Wife we fi[nd]
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let's him enjoy no Peace;
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Nor will not be contented,
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let him do what he will;
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But bids him grind his Corn,
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in his Neighbour's Water-mil[l.]
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Quoth he, Sweet Wife be quiet,
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and do not thus complain;
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Tho' I have been at charges,
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I'll fetch it up again:
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In every Loaf of Bread I make,
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I'll use my wonted skill:
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Besides w'll grind at home, my D[ear]
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in thy own Water-mill.
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Now, now, you lusty Bakers,
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that hears my song this day,
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Be warned by your Brother,
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and do not run astray,
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Lest in a trap they catch you,
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when you have had your will;
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For they will have satisfaction,
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for grinding in their Mill.
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* Note, If any Baker makes Bread that wants but one Ounce in thirty six of its due Weight,
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the first, second and third Fault he may be Amerced, but for the fourth he is to stand in the [pil-]
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lory without Redemption. Wherefore let our Country Baker beware how he fetches up his [?]
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Loss by unlawful Gain, lest he pertakes of the aforesaid just Punishment, according to Law.
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