From Thomas Clemson ran away,
One Evening on a Saturday,
The Six and Twentieth Day of July,
If that I am informed truly;
A Man, one Joseph Willard call'd,
His Hair is brown, he is not bald;
His Visage long, and wou'd you know
His Colour, it is swarthy too;
His Hat, it is of an antient Date,
Which keeps the Weather from his Pate;
A yellow Jacket, old and torn,
His wretched Carcase doth adorn;
A Homespun Shirt, and look below,
You'll find his Trowsers made of Tow,
And also coarse; and for his Shoes,
He did the same this six Months use;
They ragged are: He with him took
(If that you will be pleas'd to look)
A Handsaw, made of London Steel,
And stamped with White, near to the Heel;
A Broad-ax, of an ugly Shape,
A Justice made it, near to the Gap;
And other Clothes, perhaps may have,
That he may better play the Knave.
By Calling, he pretends to be
A Person used to the Sea,
A Millwright, Carpenter, and all
The Crafts which you to Mind can call.
If you shou'd happen for to be
By Chance drawn into his Company,
You'll find him lye at such a Rate,
You can't conceive it in your Pate.
His Birth Bucks County did adorn,
To all his Friends he is a Scorn;
His Father left him an Estate
Enough, with Care, to make him great;
He wasted it, and then he went
To Lancaster, with Intent
His ragged Fortune to repair,
And soon was made a Servant there.
If you'll expect to have a Fee
For taking up this Man for me,
Full TWENTY SHILLINGS I will give,
And truly pay it, as I live;
Provided, that you will not fail
To cast him in the nearest Goal,
And send me Word, you need not doubt,
I'll quickly lug the Money out:
In Christine Hundred, there you may
Soon find me out, on any Day;
I at John Heath's doth make my Home,
It will please me, if you hither come;
Pray use your Skill, to help your Friend,
And I'll conclude, and make an End.