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Now hardly
here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, showed the
ruddy morn's approach.
Now Betty from her master's
bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her
own;
And slipshod 'prentice from his master's door
Had pared the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirled her mop with dext'rous airs,
Prepared to scrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth
with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel-edge,
where wheels had worn the place.
The small-coal man
was heard with cadence deep,
Till drowned in shriller
notes of chimney-sweep.
Duns at his lordship's gate
began to meet,
And brickdust Moll had screamed
through half a street.
The turnkey now his flock
returning sees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for
fees.
The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands,
And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.
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