3
The father left his little son,
As plainly doth appear,
When he should come to be of age,
Three hundred pounds a year.
And to his little daughter, Jean,
Two thousand pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage day,
Which might not be controuled.
But if his children chanced to die,
Ere they to age did come,
Their Uncle should receive their wealth,
And thus the will did run.
Now, brother, said the dying man,
Look to my ehildren dear,
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friend else have I here.
To God and you I do commend
My children night and day;
A little while we have, 'tis sure,
Within this world to stay.
You must be father and mother both,
And Uncle all in one:
God knows what will become of them,
When I am dead and gone.
With that then spoke the mother dear,
My brother kind, quoth she,
Thou art the man must bring my babes
To wealth or misery.
