The WIDOWER's COURTSHIP.

The WIDOWER's COURTSHIP.

Roger a doleful widower, Full eighteen weeks had been, When he, to meet the milk-maid Nell, Came smiling o'er the green.

Blithe as a lad of seventeen, He thus accosted Nell; Give me your pail, I'll carry it For you, if you think well.

Says Nell, indeed my milking-pail You shall not touch, I vow; I've carried it myself before, And I can carry it now.

So side by side they walk'd a-while, Then he at last did say; My inclination is to come And see you, if I may.

Nell understood his meaning well, And briskly answer'd she; You may see me at any time, If you look where I be.

Says he, but hear me yet a-while, I've something more to tell; I gladly wou'd a sweetheart be Unto you, Mistress Nell.

A sweetheart I don't want, says Nell, Kind Sir, and if you do, Another you may seek, for I Am not the lass for you.

When she had made him this reply, He'd nothing more to say But — Nelly, a good night to you, And homeward went his way.