im where
thy dochter waiting stands.

Boys will be boys and girls be girls
for Godde hath willed it soe;
Thy dochter Tib hath goodly curles--
my Toms none fole, I trom.

His evening chores ben all to-done,
and she hath fed the pigges,
and now the village green upon
they daunce and sing their jigges.

His squeaking crowd the fiddler plies,
And Tom and Tib can see
The babies in echoders eyes--
saye, neighbour, shall it bee?

Nould give Frank in goodly store--
that I; in sooth, ne can;
but I have steers and hoggs gillore--
and thats what makes the man!

Your family trees and blade be naught
In these progressive years--
The only blode that counts (goes?) for aught
Is blode of piggs and steeres!

So, gossip, let us found a line
On mouton, porke and beefe;
The which in coming years shall shine
In cultures world as chief.

Sic stout and braw a sone as mine
I lay youle never see,
and theres nae huskier wench than thine--
Saye, neighbor, shall it bee?]

On pages 123 and 124 of the folio Field discovered "this ballad of
Chicago's patient Grissel (erroneously pronounced 'Gristle' in leading
western circles), setting forth the miseries and the fate of a lass
who loved a sailor ":

_THE LOST SCHOONER

Hard by ye lake, beneath ye shade,
Upon a somer's daye,
There ben a faire Chicago maid
That greeting sore did saye:
I wonder where can Willie bee--
O waly, waly! woe is mee!

He fared him off on Aprille 4,
And now 'tis August 2,
I stood upon ye slimy shoore
And swere me to be trewe;
I sawe yt schippe bear out to sea--
O waly, waly! woe is mee!

"Ye schippe she ben as braw an hulk
As ever clave ye tides,
And in her hold she bore a bulk
Of new-mown pelts and hides--
Pelts ben they all of high degree--
O waly, waly! woe is mee!

"Ye schippes yt saile untill ye towne
Ffor mee no plaisaunce hath,
Syn most of them ben loded down
With schingle, slabs and lath;
That ither schipp--say, where is shee?
O waly, waly! woe is mee!

"Ye Mary Jane ben lode with logs,
Ye Fairy Belle with beer--
Ye Mackinack ben Ffull of hoggs
And ither carnal cheer;
But nony pelt nor hide I see--
O waly, waly! woe is mee!

"And ither schippes bring salt and ore,
And some bring hams and sides,
And some bring garden truck