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A Burnt Child dreads the Fire
All goes down Gutter-lane; As Wise as a Man of Gotham; As good as George of Green; [woodcut: stout man drinks from mug, holds saussage with a fork]
He makes a Rod for his own Breech.
A Shoemaker must not go beyond his Last
Brag is a good Dog, but Holdfast is a better;  The Belly has no Ears;  [woodcut: mouse by house perhaps made from candle with snuffer]
It’s neither Rhime nor Reason; What is got over the Devil’s Back will be spent under his Belly.
title page
As you brew so you shall bake; Every bean has its Black; it is an ill wind that blows no body good
Little Pitchers have great Ears;  Many talk of Robin Hood who never shot in his Bow.
An old Dog will learn no Tricks; If you trust before you try, You may repent before you die.
The more Haste the worse Speed;  When the Sky falls we shall catch Larks.
The Traceys have always the Wind in their Faces; To cut large Thongs out of another Man’s Leather; Too much of one Thing is good for nothing
Need makes the old Wife trot;  [woodcut: barefoot old woman hitches up skirts to cross a stream]
To buy a Pig in a poke;  Robin Hood’s Pennyworths;  He looks one way and rows another.
Cheerful full-page vintage colour border
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