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    LIFE and ADVENTURES
    _OF_
    MR. PIG and MISS CRANE.

    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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