Of Mules, Male and Female. Qu. VVHy is it that the Mulets beget not, nor the Mules can conceive?

The dog come a-trottin' and the dog come a-lopin' A purty little gal with her cock wide open.

Grey rocks did peep from the square moss, and stemmed / The struggling brook: tall spires of windlestrae / Threw their thin shadows down the rugged slope, / And nought but gnarlèd roots of ancient pines, / Branchless and blasted, clenched with grasping roots / The unwilling soil.

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