When the worthy old Chronicler had arrived at the conclusion of this narrative, as usual I took up the story, and began thus:--“This, Mr. Barnaby Postern, was indeed a fatal destruction, and one would imagine that it was no such happy event as to cause a jesting ballad to be made to commemorate it; but yet, though in the following verses there are some discordant circumstances, and even the date is at variance with that which you have already given, there can be little doubt but that they relate to the Fire of which you have now spoken. You will find them printed at the end of a very rare, but, at the same time, a very worthless publication, entitled ‘_The Loves of Hero and Leander, a mock Poem: Together with choice Poems and rare pieces of drollery, got by heart, and often repeated by divers witty Gentlemen and Ladies that use to walke in the New Exchange, and at their recreations in Hide Park_.’ London, 1653, 12mo., pages 44-48. There is also another edition of 1682; but I pray you to remember, that many of the fescennine rhymes, some of which would have done honour to Hudibras, and many of the witty points of this song, are, in that latter copy, most vilely perverted; I shall give it you, therefore, as it stands in the former impression. ‘_Some_ Christian people _all_ give ear Unto the grief of us: Caused by the death of three children dear. The which it happen’d thus. And eke there befel an accident, By fault of a Carpenter’s son, Who to saw chips his sharp ax-e-lent Woe worth the time may Lon---- May London say: Woe worth the Carpenter! And all such _block-head_ fools; Would he were hanged up like a _sarpent_ here For meddling with edge tools. For into the chips there fell a spark, Which put out in such flames, That it was known into South-wark Which lies beyond the Thames. For _Loe_! the Bridge was wondrous _high_ With water underneath: O’er which as many fishes fly As birds therein do breathe. And yet the fire consumed the Brigg, Not far from place of landing; And though the building was full big, It fell down,--_not with standing_. And eke into the water fell So many pewter dishes, That a man might have taken up very well Both boil’d and roasted fishes! And thus the Bridge of London Town, For building that was sumptuous, Was _all_ by fire _half_ burnt down, For being too _contumptious_! Thus you have _all_ but _half_ my song, Pray list to what comes _ater_; For now I have _cool’d_ you with the _fire_,-- I’ll _warm_ you with the _water_! I’ll tell you what the River’s name’s Where these children did slide--a, It was fair London’s swiftest Thames Which keeps both Time and Tide--a. All on the tenth of January, To the wonder of much people; ’Twas frozen o’er that well ’twould bear Almost a country steeple!