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PATTY MORGAN THE MILKMAID'S STORY. "LOOK AT THE CLOCK1" " Look at the Clock!" quoth Winifred Pryce, As she open'd the door to her husband's knock, Then paus'd'to give him a piece of advice, " You nasty Warmint, look at the Clock! Is this the way, you Wretch, every day you Treat her who vow'd to love and obey you ? Out all night I Me in a fright; Staggering home as it's just getting light! You intoxified brute!you insensible block! Look at the Clock IDo!Look at the Clock!" Winifred Pryce was tidy and clean, Her gown was a flower'd one, her petticoat green, Her buckles were bright as her milking cans, And her hat was a beaver, and made like a man's; Her little red eyes were deep set in their socket-holes, Her gown-tail was turn'd up, and tucked through the pocket- holes ; A face like a ferret Betoken'd her spirit: To conclude, Mrs. Pryce was not over young, Had very short legs, and a very long tongue, Now David Pryce Had one darling vice; Remarkably partial to anything nice, Nought that was good to him came amiss, Whether to eat, or to drink, or to kiss 1 Especially ale If it was not too stale I really believe he'd have emptied a pail; Not that in Wales They talk of their Ales; To pronounce the word they make use of might trouble you, Being spelt with a C, two Rs, and a W. That particular day, As I've heard people say, Mr. David Pryce had been soaking his clay, And amusing himself with his pipe and cheroots, The whole afternoon at the Goat-in-Boots, With a couple more soakers, Thoroughbred smokers, Both, like himself, prime singers and jokers; And, long after day had drawn to a close, And the rest of the world was wrapp'd in repose, They were roaring out " Shenkin 1" and " Arhydd y uos;" While David him...
