Life and Adventures of Mr. Pig and Miss Crane A Nursery Tale   By: Unknown

A NURSERY TALE.

EMBELLISHED WITH DESIGNS.

Young Master Pig you here may see Upon his tender Mother's knee No longer he with patience sucks For See, he's cutting both his tusks.

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Behold him now in Go Cart safely tied His pretty feet go trotting side by side Old Granny smiles and grunting seems to say "Ce petit prodige c'est moi qui l'ai fait."

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To Master Goat next Pig is sent Whose learning is most excellent But all his pains can't make this block Say A. B. C. or "hic, hac, hoc."

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Our Piggy next an Oxford fop With Cravat large and Brutus Top And when young Stag his coat has slipt on He'll strut away like any Skipton.

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For Hunting now he takes his Cue But other Game soon comes in View Miss Crane he spies! he feels the fire And falls in Love as into mire.

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At Concert met with lengthen'd throat Miss Crane screams out the dulcet note The wondering Piggy takes his Bow And draws in Love " Con Strepito ."

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To Discord now I tune my tale The Captain bows, Miss Crane is frail The jealous Pig grunts loud and sore And vows this Greyhound's quite a bore .

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A Challenge sent, the Foes are met, On blood and murder both are set Miss Crane looks on well pleased to see The Captain stuck by bold Piggy.

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With conquest flushed Pig struts away To Mam and Dad while drinking tea Old Mam looks cross but Miss looks kind And takes the note he slips behind.

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T'elope's the word and down she goes With fur on neck and veil on nose While Poll her maid with light and rope a At once assists and saves a faux pas.

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Now side by side in Dickey plac'd To Gretna Green they speed with haste While Poll and Stag sit Vis á Vis And quiz the Pupil of the B. D. C.

Barouche Driving Club.

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T'wixt cup and lip Alas! we see Both wine and lovers spilt may be. Against the Post , the horses run The Reins are lost the Coachman's flung Pig flies aloft, Miss tumbles down Broke is her neck , and crack'd his crown !

Moral.

Behold the crisis of our awful story And catch this Moral from the Scene before ye If e'er at Gretna Green a lover glances Crane necks remember, and beware mischances.

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