{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_47161/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_47161","id":"gutenberg_47161","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47161","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Humour","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","English wit and humor"],"text":"THE\n MAD PRANKS\n OF\n TOM TRAM,\n SON-IN-LAW TO MOTHER WINTER.\n\n TO WHICH ARE ADDED\n HIS MERRY JESTS, ODD CONCEITS,\n AND\n PLEASANT TALES:\n BEING VERY DELIGHTFUL TO READ.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n GLASGOW,\n Printed by J. & M. ROBERTSON, SALTMARKET,\n MDCCCII\n\n\n\n\n THE\n MAD PRANKS\n OF\n TOM TRAM.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. I.\n\n_A merry Jest betwixt old Mother Winter, and her Son-in-law Tom._\n\n\nThere was an old woman, named Mother Winter, that had but one\nson-in-law, and his name was Tom; and though he was at man's estate,\nyet would do nothing but what he listed, which grieved his old\nmother to the heart. Upon a time being in the market, she heard a\nproclamation, _That those that would not work should be whipped_. At\nwhich the old woman leap'd, and with great joy home she comes, meets\nwith her son, and tells him the mayor of the town had made a decree,\nwhich was, _That all those that would not work should be whipped_. Has\nhe so, says he, marry, my blessing on his heart; for my part, I'll not\nbreak the decree. So the old woman left her son, and went again to the\nmarket; she was no sooner gone but her son looks into the stone pots,\nwhich she kept small beer in: and when he saw that the beer did not\nwork, he takes the pot, strips off his doublet, and with a carter's\nwhip he lays on them as hard as he could drive. The people who saw him\ndo it, told his mother what he had done; which made the old woman cry\nout, O! that young knave will be hanged. So in that tone home she goes.\nHer son seeing her, came running and foaming at the mouth to meet her,\nand told her, that he had broke both the pots; which made the old woman\nto say, O thou villain! what hast thou done? O mother, quoth he, you\ntold me it was proclaimed, That all those that would not work, must be\nwhipp'd; and I have often seen our pots work so hard, that they have\nfoamed so much at the mouth, that they befouled all the house where\nthey stood; but these two lazy knaves, said he, told me; That they did\nnever work, nor never meant to work; and therefore, quoth he, I have\nwhipped them to death, to teach the rest of their fellow's to work, or\nnever look me in the face again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II.\n\n_Another Jest of old Mother Winter, and her Son Tom._\n\n\nUpon a time mother Winter sent her son Tom into the market, to buy\nher a penny worth of soap and gave him twelve-pence, and charged him\nto bring it home safe. Tom told her it should be so; and to that end\nit should be safe brought home, according to his mother's charge, he\ngoes and buys one penny-worth of soap, and hired two men with a hand\nbarrow to carry the soap, and four men with brown bills to guard it\nalong to her, giving them the eleven-pence for their pains, which made\nhis mother in great fury, go to the mayor of the town, who committed\nhim to prison: Now, the prison window joining close to the mayor's\nchamber window, Tom, and some other merry prisoners like himself,\ngetting a cup of good liquor in their heads, began to sing and roar and\ndomoneer, insomuch that the mayor heard them that night, and charged\nthem they should leave off drinking and singing of bawdy songs, and\nsing good psalms. Tom told him, That he should hear that he would amend\nhis life, if he would pardon his fault. The mayor said that for their\nmisdemeaners, they should be that night in prison, and upon amendment,\nbeing neighbours, he would release them in the morning. They thanked\nthe mayor, and Tom Tram prevailed so far with a friend of his that\nhe borrowed three shillings; which three shillings he spent upon his\nfellow prisoners, which made the poor men be ruled by him, and do what\nhe enjoined them to do; so when the mayor was gone to bed, the prison\nwindow, as before observed, being close to the chamber window, they\nbegun to sing psalms so loud, that the mayor could take no rest; which\nmade him cause one of his servants to bid them leave off singing. Tom\nTram said, That it was the mayor's good counsel that they should sing\npsalms, and sing they would, as long as they lived there. Which made\nthe mayor bid the jailor turn them out of prison, without paying their\nfees.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.\n\n_How Tom served his Hostess, and a Tobacco\nSeller, being another of his Jests._\n\n\nIt happened that Tom was sent on an errand forty miles from his\nabode, over heaths and plains, where having dispatched his business,\nhe chanced to be lodged in a room that opened into a yard, where his\nhostess kept many turkeys; which Tom seeing, he thrusts pins into two\nof their heads and in the night they died. The woman in the morning\nwondered how the fowls should come to die, Tom persuaded her that there\nwas a great sickness where he dwelt amongst all manner of fowls, and\nwished his hostess to fling them away, the which she did. Tom watched\nwhere she flung them, and when he took his leave of his hostess, it\nwas at such a time when she was busy setting bread into the oven, so\nthat he was sure she could not look after him. So he goes and wraps\nthe turkeys in his coat, and away he runs; but finding his two turkeys\nheavy, he sees a man that sold tobacco up and down the country, at the\nfoot of a hill, when he alighted to lead his horse down the hill, at\nthe bottom of which he falls down, and lies crying as if he had broke\none of his legs, and makes to the man a most piteous lamentation; that\nhe was six or seven miles from any town, there being no house near; and\nthat he was like to perish for want of succour. The man asked, Where\nhe dwelt? he said with a knight, to whom Tom did live as a jester. The\nman knowing the knight, and thinking Tom's leg had really been broken,\nwith much ado lifted him upon the horse. Tom was mounted, he prayed\nthe man to give him his master's turkeys. Tom made the horse to gallop\naway, crying out, I shall be killed! I shall be killed! O my leg! what\nshall I do! O my leg! The man seeing him gone stood in amaze, and knew\nnot what to think; nevertheless, he durst not leave his turkeys behind\nhim, for fear of displeasing the knight, but carried them lugging along\nfretting and swearing in his boots, till he came to the next town,\nwhere he hired a horse to overtake Tom, but could not, until he came to\nthe knight's house, where Tom stood to attend his coming, looking out\nat the window. When the man alighted, Tom then called to him so loud,\nthat most of the house heard him; O, said he, now I see thou art an\nhonest man, I had thought you had set me upon your headstrong horse, on\npurpose to deceive me of my turkeys. The man replied, A pox take you\nand your turkeys, for I never was play'd the knave with so in my life;\nI hope that you will pay for the hire of the horse, which I was forced\nto borrow to follow you withal. That I will, said Tom, with all my\nheart.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV.\n\n_How Tom paid the Man for his Horse Hire._\n\n\nTom asked the man what way he intended to travel? Marry, said the man,\nI must go back with the horse I have hired. Quoth Tom, what did you\ngive for the hire of him? Said the man, I gave five shillings. Well,\nsaid Tom, I will set you to the next public house, and then we will\neat one of the turkeys; and I will bring you in good silver, the five\nshillings for the horse hire. The place appointed being two miles off,\nTom appoints three or four of his companions to meet him, who did not\nfail, for they were there before Tom and his friend, who came riding\nupon the horses, Tom upon the hired horse, and the man upon his own.\nTom alighted, and called the hostler to set up his horse, and to give\nhim oats enough, and caused a turkey to be roasted with all possible\nhaste; which, according as he commanded, was performed. But Tom\nwhispered to his consorts, and wished them to ply the man with drink;\nwhilst he, in the mean time, went to the host, and told him. They came\nto be merry, and money was short with him and desired he would lend\nhim ten shillings upon his horse. The host having so good a pawn, lent\nit him, knowing it would be spent in his house. So Tom went and gave\nthe man five shillings for the hire of the horse, and spends the other\nfive shillings freely upon him: by that time the day was very nigh\nspent, so that the man could get no further that night, but Tom and his\ncompanions took their leaves and returned home and the man went his\nway to bed little suspecting the trick Tom had put upon him. In the\nmorning, the man rising betimes, thinking to be gone, could have but\none horse, unless he paid ten shillings, for Tom had left word with his\nhost, that paying the money, he should have both horses. The man seeing\nhimself cozened again by Tom, paid the ten shillings, and wished all\nsuch cheating knaves were hanged, so away he went fretting and foaming\nto see himself abused.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V.\n\n_How Tom served a Company of Gentlemen._\n\n\nIt happened that a company of gentlemen being disposed to create mirth,\nrode some miles from home to be merry, one of them would needs have Tom\nto wait upon him, and Tom was as willing as he to be in that company\nbut as they were coming home, one of them cuts the reins of Tom's\nbridle; so that when Tom mounted upon his horse, the reins broke, and\nthe horse run away with him in the midst of a great heath whereon stood\na large gallows against which the horse stood, and rubbed his neck,\nso that the gentleman hoop'd and hallow'd, and said, Farewel, Tom,\nfarewel; but Tom alighted from his horse, and made fast his reins, and\nwith his sword cut three or four chips from off the gallows; and at the\nnext tavern Tom met with them, where they jeer'd him not a little; but\nTom very earnestly entreated them to forbear; yet the more he entreated\nthem, the more they play'd upon him: But to be even with them, in the\nmorning Tom calls the ostler, and sends him for nutmegs and ginger, and\ngets a grater; and when he had grated them, he also grated the chips of\nthe gallows, and mix'd with the spice only a little nutmeg and ginger\nhe laid towards one end of the trencher for himself, and with a gallon\nof ale into the gentlemen's chamber he goes, begging of them not to\nmock him any more with the gallows; and he would give them that ale and\nspice; and so, says he, gentlemen, I drink to you all. Now as soon as\nhe had drank, the ostler call'd him, as he gave him charge before so to\ndo, down stairs runs Tom, as fast as he could: the gentlemen made all\npossible speed to drink up the ale and spice before he came up again,\nand that was what Tom desired. When he came again, seeing all the ale\nand spice gone, he says, Gentlemen, will you know why my horse carried\nme to the gallows? Yes, says one of them, Well, says Tom, it was to\nfetch you some spice to your ale, and if you want I have more for you;\nand with that shewed them the chips out of his pocket, and away he\nruns, leaving the gentlemen to look one upon another, studying how they\nshould be revenged on him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VI.\n\n_How Tom rode a Gossipping._\n\n\nTom heard of a company of women that would meet at the place a\nhouse-warming, to welcome one of the house. These women had formerly\nabused Tom, and now he thought to be even with them, so he goes to\nan apothecary's shop, buys a pound of purging comfits, and puts them\nin a cake with other spices, and dresses himself in women's apparel,\nand gets a horse and a pannel, and to the house he comes, knocks at\nthe door, and asked the maid, whether there were many women, came a\nhouse-warming? The maid said, Not yet: I pray says Tom, take this cake,\nand if I come not at the meeting, let them eat it and be merry; for I\nmust go to a woman that is ready to lie down, and away he goes. The\nwomen came, and wondered what woman it should be that left that cake;\nsome of them supposed that it was some midwife: They staid a while,\nand the person they expected to be with them not coming, they fell\nto their meat, and at last to the cake. But it was not long in their\nbellies before it began to work, so that one must go to stool, another\nto vometing, and all of them were so sick, that the smell of them\nperfumed the house, and the breath of them was so strong, that none\ncould endure it: In which time Tom shifts himself into man's apparel,\nand with a staff in his hand, came where his gossips were, and hearing\nthem groaning all the house over, opened the door and asked them what\nwas the matter? They answered, they were all poisoned. Marry, quoth\nTom, I hope not, if you please to let me have a horse, I will ride\nto Mr. Doctor's and fetch an antidote to expel the poison. Take my\nhorse, quoth one; take my horse, said another; or mine, said a third.\nWell, well, said Tom, I will take one. And into the stable he goes,\nand takes three horses, and to the doctor's he rides, and told him,\nthat all the people of such a house had eaten something that hindred\nthem from going to stool; and prayed him that he would without delay,\ncarry them some Glysters; and that they had sent a horse for him and\nanother for his man. The doctor, greedy of money, hasted thither with\nhis glyster-pipes as fast as the horses could carry him and his man;\nbut the doctor no sooner came into the house, but he smell'd there was\nno need of glysters. In the mean time Tom told not only all he met\nwith, that there were such women met to be merry at such a place; and\nnot only they, but all the women of the house were poisoned but went\nlikewise to their husbands, and told them the like; so that all the\npeople thereabouts repaired thither; which made the women so ashamed,\nthat they knew not which way to look, because all that saw them judged\nthey were drunk; so that instead of comforting them, which they\nexpected, they fell a reviling them; the women also fell to scolding\namong themselves, and would have fought, had not their husbands parted\nthem, by carrying them home.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VII.\n\n_How Tom served a company of Gypsies._\n\n\nIt happened on a day, towards night that there came a company of\nGypsies into a town, and had not very long been there till Tom met\nthem, and asked them, What they made there? They said, they came\nto town to tell the people their fortunes, that thereby they might\nwithstand ensuing dangers. Aye, says Tom, and where do you lie\nto-night? They told him they could not tell. Nay, said Tom, if you\nwill be contented to lie in straw, I will bring you where you may lie\ndry and warm. They thanked him, and told him they would tell him his\nfortune in the morning for nothing. Tom thanked them, and therefore\nconveys them into a little thach'd house which had a ditch round about\nit, very close to the wall thereof; that house Tom help'd them to fill\nwith straw, and see them take their lodging; and then, it being dark,\nTom bad them good-night; and as soon as he was over the bridge, which\nwas a plank, he drew it after him; and in the dead time of the night,\nTom gets a long pole, with a wisp of straw at the end of it, and sets\nthe straw on fire, calling out to the rest of the fellows to shift for\nthemselves; who thinking to run over the bridge, fell into the ditch,\ncrying and calling out for help, while, by Tom's means, most part of\nthe town stood to see the jest; and as the gypsies waded through the\nditch, they took them, and carried them into an house where there was\na good fire, for it was in the midst of winter; where Tom counsels\nthem, that they should never make him believe that they could tell him\nany thing, that did not know what danger should befal themselves: But,\nsays he, because you cannot tell me my fortune, I will tell you yours;\nFor to-morrow in the forenoon you shall be whipped for deceivers, and\nin the afternoon be hanged for setting the house on fire. The gypsies\nhearing this so strick sentence, made haste to dry themselves, and\nnext morning stole out of town, and never came any more there.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Tom sold his mother's Trevot, and\ncozened an Aquavit\u00c3\u00a6 Man that sold hot water._\n\n\nIn a winter night, coming home very late, Tom Tram fell with his arms\nbefore him, and at the last run his nose against a post; what, quoth\nTom, is my nose longer than my arms? And afterwards he dropped into a\nwell that was in the yard, and crying out, help, help, all is not well\nthat is in the well, the neighbours came and pulled him out, and he\ndropp'd like a pig that had been roasted on a spit; but he was then in\na cold condition, so he went to bed, and covered himself; but before\nmorning, having a looseness in his belly, Tom had beshit the sheets;\nand when some, by the quick scent of their noses, had discovered the\nfault, he told them, it was nothing but the clear mud of the well that\ncame away from him; and if he died of that sickness, he would be buried\nby torch-light, because none should see him go to his grave. Just as he\nhad so said, in came a hot water man, of whom he requested to give him\na sup; which having tasted, he feigned himself to be in a hot fever,\nand rose up in his clothes, ran away with the aquavit\u00c3\u00a6 man's bottle\nof hot water, and took his mother's trevot, and sold it for a long\nhawking pole, and a falconer's bag? which being tied to his side; and\nhaving drank up the poor man's hot water, he came reeling home with an\nowl upon his fist, saying, It is gentleman-like to be betwixt hawk and\nbuzzard; and he told the aquavit\u00c3\u00a6 man, that he had sent the trevot with\nthree legs, to the next town to fill your bottles again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IX.\n\n_Of Tom Tram's wooing Cicily Summers, the neat Wench of the West._\n\n\nCicily Summers, whose nose was then as fair as the midnight sun,\nwhich shined as bright as Baconthine, was beloved of young Tom Tram;\nand a sad story to tell, he grew not worth the bread he eat, through\npining away for her love. Tom was loth to speak but still whistled;\nAt last, when Cicily made no answer, he burst out in thus: O Cicily\nSummers, if I Tom Tram, son of mother Winter, and thou Cicily Summers,\nbe joined together what a quarter shall we keep, as big as three half\nyears; besides, Cicily Summers, when thou scoldest, then Winter shall\npresently cool thy heat; and when we walk on the street they'll say,\nyonder goes Summer and Winter; and for children, we shall beget every\nyear a generation of Almanacks. So they went to the parson and were\nmarried; but they fell out so extremely, that she scolded all the\nsummer season; and Tom he drank good ale, and told old tales all the\nwinter time, and so they could never but thrive all the year thro'. Tom\nlived by good ale, and his wife by eating oatmeal; and when Tom went to\nbe drunk in the morning, she put oatmeal in the ale, and made caudle\nwith mustard instead of eggs, which bit Tom so by the nose, that it\nwould run water; but the next day he would be drunk again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. X.\n\n_How Tom used a singing man of a Cathedral Church in the West._\n\n\nOnce there was a cathedral singing man, that had very much anger'd Tom,\nand had made songs and jests on him; whereupon Tom got upon his back\nan ox-hide, with the horns set upon his head, and so lay in a hedge\nbottom, waiting till the singing man came by, who he was sure must\npass that way: at last came the singing man, up started Tom out of the\nhedge bottom in his ox-hide, and followed him: the singing man cried\nout, the devil! the devil! No, quoth Tom, I am the ghost of goodman\nJohnson, living hard by the church stile, unto whose house ye came and\nsung catches, and owes me Five Pounds for ale, therefore appoint me a\nday when ye will bring me my money hither, or else I will haunt thee\nstill. The singing man promised that day se'enight, and accordingly he\ndid; and Tom made himself brave clothes with the money, and sweethearts\ncame about him as bees do about a honey pot; but Tom wore a rope in\nhis pocket and being asked if he would marry, he would pull it out,\nand laugh, saying, I have broken my shins already, and will be wiser\nhereafter; for I am an old colt, and now may have as much wit as a\nhorse.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XI.\n\n_How he hired himself to the justice,\nand what pranks he played while with him._\n\n\nThe justice at this time being without a man, and finding Tom to be a\nlively fellow, asking him, if he would serve him. Yes, quoth Tom, for\nI am a great many miles from the country. As soon as they had agreed\nfor wages, Tom was immediately entertained: But he had not liv'd long\nthere before the justice and his family was obliged to go to London,\nleaving no body at home but Tom. Now in the justices absence, an\nofficer brought a lusty young woman and a little man with a complaint;\nso they knocked at the door, and Tom let them in; then placing himself\nin his master's chair, he asked the woman what she had to say, who told\nhim that the man whom she had brought before him had lain with her by\nforce. Adzooks, quoth Tom, is it possible that such a little fellow\nas this could force such a strapping dame as you, Alas! Sir, said\nshe, although he is little he is strong. Well, little whipper-snapper,\nquoth Tom, what do you say to this; He replied, Like your worship it is\nfalse what she says; the truth is this: I have been at sea, and coming\nashore, where I received my pay, I met with this woman, and agreed\nwith her for half a crown, and when it was over, I pull'd out my purse\nto pay her honestly what I had agreed for; but she seeing that I had\na considerable sum of money, contrary to our bargain, would force me\nto give her ten shillings, and because I would not, she has brought\nme before your worship. Have you got that purse of money? quoth Tom:\nYes, Sir, said the seaman. Give it into my hand said Tom. He receives\nit, and turning to the woman, said, Here take it and get about your\nbusiness. She replied, I thank your worship you are an honest good man,\nand have done me justice. The little seaman the meanwhile wrung his\nhands and bitterly cried out, I am ruined, for it is every penny I had\nin the world. Well, quoth Tom, haste after her, and take it from her\nagain. According to Tom's order he runs after her, and when he came\nafter her he said, I must, and will have my purse again: Then she fell,\nabout his ears and cuft him; nay this did not satisfy her, but she\ndragged him back again to Tom, who sat as justice, and told him, that\nthe fellow followed her for the purse, which he in justice gave her.\nWell, said Tom, and has he go it? No, said she, I think not, before\nhe should take it from me, I'd tear out both his eyes. Let me see it\nagain, says Tom: She gives it to him. Is all the money in it? quoth\nhe: Yes, Sir, said she every penny. Why then, said he, here little\nwhipper-snapper, take your purse again; and as for you, Mrs. Impudence,\nhad you defended your honesty as well as you did the money, I never had\nbeen troubled with this complaint. Here, Mr. Constable, give her an\nhundred lashes at the town's whipping-post: which was accordingly done,\nand Tom was applauded for his just proceedings.\n\n\n\n\nSEVERAL\n\nMERRY TALES.\n\n\nTALE  I.\n\n_Of a Scholar and a Tapster on a Winter night._\n\nThe tapster said, Sir, will you go to bed. No, quoth the scholar, there\nare thieves abroad, and would not willingly be taken napping. So the\ntapster left him, and being gone, in came a spirit into the chamber,\nwith his head under his arm, so that he durst not stir, but cried out,\nHelp! help! fire! thieves! thieves. So when they of the house came to\nhim they asked him, what was the matter! Oh, quoth he, the devil was\nhere, and spoke to me with his head under his arm; but now I will go to\nbed, and if he comes again, I will send him to the tapster to help him\nto make false reckonings: It being a cold night, quoth he, I will first\nput fire to toe, that is, I will warm my toes by the fire, then I'll go\nto bed. And so he did, and a great reckoning the next morning put the\nscholar out of his jest, saying, that was in earnest made too large a\nreckoning, he being but poor Sir John of Oxford.\n\n\nTALE  II.\n\nOne that was going to a wedding had a great occasion to untruss a\npoint; whereupon he went under a hedge, but the place not pleasing him,\nhe went under a haystack and then into a saw-pit, and afterwards into\na hog-stye, where he did his business. Now the other clowns that were\nwith him, asked him if he had done his task and days labour; Yes, quoth\nhe, I have shit three shillings in nine pences, go and fetch them they\nare more than a day's labour will come to. So they went to the wedding\nhouse, and when they came thither, they were making a reckoning for\nthe fidler, and every one gave what he listed. Oh, quoth one of them,\nif you want money to make up the reckoning, here is one that can shite\nthree shillings in nine-pences. If he can, quoth the guests, let him\nbring them hither in his mouth, for I fear they are of so soft a metal,\nthat they will melt in spite of his teeth. So after they had danced a\nwhile, a fart was let; whereupon says one, this fart was full charged,\nfor it yielded a large vent; meaning his shirt.\n\n\nTALE  III.\n\nDown in the west country a certain conceited fellow had a great nose;\nso a country-man by him with a sack of corn, jostled him, saying, your\nnose stands in my way; whereupon the other fellow with the great nose,\ntook his nose in his hand, and held it to the other side, saying, A pox\non thee, go and be hanged.\n\n\nTALE  IV.\n\nOnce there was a company of gypsies that came to a country fellow\non the highway, and would needs tell him his fortune: amongst other\nthings, they bad him assure himself his worst misfortunes were past,\nand that he would not be troubled with crosses as he had been: so\ncoming home, and having sold the cow at the market, he look'd in his\npurse for the money, thinking to have told it to his wife; but he\nfound not so much as one cross in his purse; whereupon he remembered\nthe words of the gypsies and said, that the gypsies had said true that\nhe should not be troubled with crosses, and that they had picked his\npocket, and left not a penny in his purse. Whereupon his wife basted\nand cudgelled him so soundly, that he began to perceive that a man that\nhad a cursed wife should never be without a cross tho' he had never a\npenny in his purse; and because it was winter-time, he sat a while by\nthe fire-side, and after went to bed supperless and pennyless.\n\n\nTALE  V.\n\nA Farmer's wife in the west had three pigs, which she loved exceedingly\nwell, and fed them with good butter-milk and whey; but they would come\nrunning into the house and befoul the rooms: whereupon she resolved\nto sell them at the market, because they were better fed than taught,\nbut afterwards they were stolen away from her; whereupon she supposed\nthey were driven up to London to learn manners; but said she, they were\ntoo old to learn to turn the spit in Barholomew fair, and therefore\nbelieved some butchers had stole them away.\n\nHer cock had a piece of cloth sewen about him, and was left upon\nthe perch, but afterwards stolen; whereupon she said, that her cock\nwas turned scholar in a black gown; and so she went to Oxford to a\nconjurer, to know what was become of her pigs and her cock. The scholar\nsmiled, and told her, the three pigs were blown home, and the cock was\nmade a batchelor of arts in one of the colleges. I thought so, said the\nwoman, for sure batchelors of arts are very coxcombs.\n\n\nTALE  VI.\n\nOne in the country having bought a cloak of one that stole it, or made\nit by slight of hand, he was challenged for it; and being troubled in\nmind, asked a friend of his, a very witty fellow in the parish, How he\nmight come off? His friend replied, he would tell him for a quart of\nsack. So to the tavern they went, and having drunk a pint, he desired\nto know how he might come off? When we have drunk the other pint of\nsack, quoth his friend, I'll tell you how you may come off. The quart\nbeing drunk off, he replied, he would not tell him till they were in\nthe street. So going out of the tavern, Do you see, quoth he, yonder\ncollour seller's shop, pointing as it were, with his finger; do but buy\na rope there and hang thyself with it, and I warrant thee thou shalt\ncome off, and never be troubled for that matter.\n\n\nTALE  VII.\n\nA Country Clergyman meeting a neighbour who never came to church,\nalthough an old fellow of about fifty, he gave him some reproof on\nthat account, and asked him if he never read at home? No, replied the\nclown, I cannot read. I dare say, said the parson, you don't know who\nmade you? Not I, in troth, cried the country man. A little boy coming\nby at the same time, Who made you child? said the parson, God Sir, said\nthe boy.--Why look you there, quoth the Clergyman, are you not ashamed\nto hear a child of five or six years old, tell me who made him, when\nyou that are so old a man, cannot!--Ah! said the country man, it is no\nwonder that he should remember; he was made but t'other day, and it is\na long while measter since I was made.\n\n\nFINIS.\n\n\n GLASGOW,\n Printed by J. & M. ROBERTSON, Saltmarket,\n MDCCCII.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\nMinor punctuation errors were fixed on pages 8 and 23. Unusual\nspellings have been retained throughout. The following typos were\ncorrected--\n\nPage 4, \"plalms\" changed to \"psalms\" in two instances. (...bawdy songs,\nand sing good psalms.) (...they begun to sing psalms so loud...)\n\nPage 9, \"littse\" changed to \"little.\" (...where they jeer'd him not a\nlittle;)\n\nPage 10, \"Gypses\" changed to \"Gypsies\" once. (...there came a company of\nGypsies...)\n\nPage 14, \"sooseness\" changed to \"looseness.\" (...having a looseness in\nhis belly,)\n\nPage 18, \"it\" changed to \"is.\" (...the truth is this...)\n\nPage 20, \"thieves.\" changed to \"thieves!\" (Help! help! fire! thieves!\nthieves!)","title":"The Mad Pranks of Tom Tram, Son-in-law to Mother Winter: To Which Are Added His Merry Jests, Odd Conceits, and Pleasant Tales.","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":5663}