Great News from Southwark: OR, THE Old Womans Legacy to her Cat.
GIVING An Account of an Old Miserable Woman, who lately Kept a Blind Ale-House, in St. Tooley-Street, near the Burrough of Southwark; who was so wretchedly Covetous, as to deny her self the Common Benefits of Life, as to Meat and Cloaths; leaving, at her Death, about Eighteen Hundred Pounds, to her CAT; using to say often, when the CAT Mew'd, ‘Peace PUSS, peace; Thou shalt have All, when I am Dead.’
To the Tune of, The Bleeding Heart, &c.
I.
In Southwark, there did lately dwell
A Rich old Woman, noted well:
An Ale-House-keeper, by her Trade;
She liv'd alone, and had no Maid.
II.
For, very Poor she seem'd to be,
And was maintain'd by Charity
Her Family was very small;
A CAT she kept, and that was all.
III.
No Food her self she would afford,
But what came from her Neighbours Board:
But for her CAT, she Meat would buy,
And feed her, ay! most daintily.
IV.
She liv'd so close, and far'd so hard,
That she her self had well nigh starv'd:
No Cloaths or Victuals would she buy,
But feed her CAT most daintily.
V.
She heaped up her Bags in Store,
And pincht her Guts, to lay up more:
Tho' she as Lean as Rake, did grow,
Her CAT was Plump, as any Doe.
VI.
Her Belly-Money up she laid,
Until an handsome Summ it made:
Her Guttage Money it was found
To be nigh Eighteen Hundred Pound.
VII.
For Death, at length, began to creep,
And Rock the Rich Old Crone asleep:
Asleep she lay, to Death confin'd,
And left her CAT, and Wealth, behind.
VIII.
A Day, or Two, did scarcely pass,
When by her Neighbours mist she was:
Who marvell'd greatly, that she stay'd,
And came not for her Daily Bread.
IX.
Among the Rest, One went to see,
What the Occasion there might be:
But when that he came in the House,
He found all still, as any Mouse.
X.
Up Stairs he went, and in the Bed
He found the Rich Old Woman dead:
And, looking in a Trunk just by,
Near Eighteen Hundred Pounds did lie.
XI.
No sooner he had found the Hoard,
But he divulg'd it all abroad:
Then flockt the Neighbours, to behold
The Treasur'd Bags of Coyned Gold.
XII.
Thus did she cheat and baffle such,
As thought her Poor: for she was Rich:
Her Belly sav'd it for her CAT,
But PUSS must shew the WILL for that
LONDON, Printed for James Read, 1695.