THE Crafty Lass of the West:  
Or, A Pleasant Ditty of a modest Maid, who Mortgaged her Maidenhead for a High-crowned Hat.  
Tune of Liggan-Water. Licenced according to Order.  
 
 

HEre is a jest I do protest,  
Of a young Damsel in the West,  
Whose wit and beauty did excel  
Most Maids that in those parts did dwell.   

Therefore my Friends I pray attend,  
To this new Ditty which is penned;  
Then if you do not own the same,  
In troth you will be much to blame.   

One Morning, Sirs, it happened so,  
She to the Market Town would go,  
With Purse of Money great and small,  
To buy a High-crowned Hat withal.   

No sooner was this Lass come there,  
But she did to a Shop repair,  
Whereas her Charms did soon ensnare  
The Bachelor that lived there.   

Sweet Sir, said she, a Hat I●d have,  
And let it be as I shall crave,  
One that is Rich, and light to wear,  
He soon did fit her to a Hair.   

Tell me the Price, she then replied,  
Said he, Ten Shillings I denied;  
But I'll befriend thee, Love, he said,  
Because thou art a handsome Maid.   

Thou shalt enjoy it for a Crown,  
If thou wilt let me lay thee down,  
Upon a soft fine Featherbed,  
And there obtain thy Maidenhead.   
 

The Damsel pausing, stood a while,  
At length she answered with a Smile,  
What Maidenhead, and Money too?  
I'faith kind Sir, that will not do.   

He streightways beckoned her aside,  
Saying, If she would but abide  
With him, till the next Morning light,  
He'd give her this new Hat outright.   

She did no more disputing stand,  
But struck the Bargain out of hand;  
And having given the Youth content,  
The Hat she took, and home she went.   

Now as she tripped on the way,  
The Damsel to herself did say,  
I with a High-crowned Hat am sped,  
For a mere silly Maidenhead.   

When to her Mother coming straight,  
This precious Bargain to relate;  
Said she, Dear Mother, as I'm true,  
A Hat I have and Money too.   

Why saucy Slut, her Mother said,  
How was the good Shopkeeper paid?  
He had my Maidenhead, quoth she,  
Which has been long a Plague to me.   

The Mother then began to raive,  
And did her Daughter there be slave;  
Likewise she thrashed her out of Door,  
Protesting she'd ne'er own her more.   

If this new Hat she did not take,  
And with all hast a journey make,  
To give it him to whom she'd lain,  
And fetch her Maidenhead again.   

Much haste to Town this Damsel made,  
And to the Hatter thus she said;  
My Maidenhead you must restore,  
Or else I'm ruined evermore.   

Here take your Hat again she said,  
For I must have my Maidenhead:  
Come hither, and lie by my side,  
I'll give it thee again, he cried.   

Now as the youthful Shopkeeper,  
He was restoring that to her,  
Thrust it in further Sir, I pray,  
For fear I lose it by the way.   

Said he, 'Tis well, thou needest not fear:  
These words her drooping Heart did ch●●r,  
She made him Courtesies to the Ground,  
Because she had such kindness found.   

She to her Mother went with speed,  
And told her that he was indeed  
An honest Man, for why, said she,  
He never made a word with me.   

But Housewife, had he not been so,  
It would have prov●d your overthrow;  
But since he did it thus restore,  
Be sure you play the Fool no more.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.